


Ten Inch Hero!AU

by jesustakethewii (canonmerlinisatwink)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Ten Inch Hero - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:29:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canonmerlinisatwink/pseuds/jesustakethewii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barbara comes into the beautiful beach town of Santa Cruz to study production design, and wounds up working for the local sandwich shop, the staff of which includes Geoff, the tattooed owner who is smitten with the wood sculpting lady next door, Gavin, the charming British lad who hits on practically everything that moves, Michael, the ill-tempered cook who has more artificial holes on his head than real ones, and Ray, the nerdy cashier who has a long-time chat mate that goes by the name of Fuzzy22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ten Inch Hero](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/24860) by dir. David Mackay. 



> **Disclaimer (sort of):** I don’t own Rooster Teeth and all other affiliated shows, names, and individuals. That honour goes to Burnie Burns. I also don’t own Ten-Inch Hero; I’m only borrowing a large part of the narrative for this fic ~~please don’t sue me~~.
> 
>  **Notes:** My love for the independent feature film Ten-Inch Hero apparently knows no bounds, which is why you have this in front of you. If you haven’t watched the film yet, GO WATCH IT NOW. The film stars Jensen Ackles (of Supernatural fame), Danneel Harris, Clea Duvall, and Elisabeth Harnois.
> 
>  **Betas** : Stephanie, Natalie, and Shimi. You guys are awesome. uwu

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!”

 

“I’m sorry!” Barbara said as she tried to maneuver a giant prosthetic hammer away from a passing student’s head and across the grassy quad in front of the Arts building. She designed and constructed the massive prop for the upcoming anime convention that weekend in the local trade center and couldn’t afford to break it, considering the number of hours she spent painstakingly building the thing. She cursed under her breath and heaved the hammer over her right shoulder, wishing that she didn’t take that apartment about ten miles away from her school, no matter how cheap the move-in deposit was during the time.

 

Having zero-to-none college funds was a real bummer, especially for aspiring artsy cosplayer geeks like Barbara. She really needed to get a job.

 

 _Oh, well,_ she thought as she trudged through the never ending expanse of grass that made up their school lot. _Enough time to worry about that later. Meanwhile, I gotta do something about this fucking backache I’m getting._ She adjusted the hammer on her shoulder again, grimacing at the sudden burst of pain.

 

“You need any help with that?” The question, stated in perfect Queen’s English, sounded from somewhere near her right. She looked up from where she was trying to massage her neck muscles and found an attractive, sandy-haired man smiling charmingly back at her.

 

“To be honest, yes,” Barbara said, finally giving up and carefully setting the prop down on the grassy ground. “My shoulder hurts like hell.”

 

“Far be it from me to let a lady suffer,” said the man, taking out a set of keys from his pocket and jangling them in front of her. “I can give you a lift if you want?”

 

Barbara knew that hitching rides from random strangers definitely was in the list of things her parents specifically warned her about before she flew away from her lovely Canadian hometown, but her back really fucking _hurt_ and the hammer weighed like it was something Thor had been practicing on before he acquired Mjolnir. _Fuck it._

“Okay,” she said after a moment of hesitation, giving Gavin a nervous grin and hefting the hammer up again. “What the hell. You seem like a non-crazy guy. I’ll take the offer.”

 

“Smart girl,” said the man, and moved to help her with her prop. “Bloody hell, this thing is _heavy._ What did you build this out of, bricks?”

 

“Nah, but I may have put a body in there somewhere,” Barbara said, grinning as she watched him struggle with the massive tool.

 

“In that case, maybe we should hurry up before someone catches us,” said the man, grimacing as he set across the quad to the parking lot just a few meters away. “I’m Gavin, by the way. Gavin Free.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Gavin Free. I’m Barbara Dunkelman,” said Barbara, as they approached a VW love bus parked on the concrete space. “Whoa. Nice car.”

 

“Not mine,” said Gavin, opening the back door and trying to carefully lay the heavy prop down on the car’s carpeted surface. “My boss just lent me this for today.”

 

“Your boss? You’re a working student, then?”

 

“Eh,” said Gavin, shrugging as he finally managed to heave the hammer into the trunk without damaging the prop. “I don’t exactly study here.”

 

Barbara’s eyes widened. _Oookay. That’s weird._ “You… don’t?”

 

“No,” said Gavin, shutting the door and turning to face her. “Just giving a friend a lift back to their dorm.” He gave her another one of those charming grins.

 

“If…If you say so,” said Barbara a little uncertainly, hoping against hope that she hadn’t just made the god-awful decision of getting a lift from a known sexual predator. Her mother would fly in from Canada and revive her debauched corpse just to give her a good telling to.

 

As they drove out of the school lot and onto the paved streets of Santa Cruz, Barbara started to think that maybe Gavin really wasn’t a psycho serial killer going about his regular hunt for prey, but an actual Nice Guy who liked giving lifts to people who seem to be needed them. Well, that was until the car started to make hacking sounds in the middle of an abandoned street behind a group of buildings. It then proceeded to “break down” in a spectacular, mechanical _huff_ that rattled the boxed vehicle and its occupants, followed by a huge, billowing cloud of smoke. Shocked and more than a little scared, Barbara froze and slowly turned to stare at the man beside her, who was looking down on the dashboard, an irritated frown on his face.

 

“Um,” she began, trying to discreetly reach out for the handle on the passenger seat door. “Maybe I’ll just get off here, don’t you think?”

 

“What?” Gavin said distractedly from where he was contemplating the car’s engine problem. “Wait—no. I can fix this. You don’t have to walk home, seriously.”

 

“Really, I can,” said Barbara, still groping the leather panel of the door in panic. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ “My shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m totally fine carrying my hammer home. In fact, you can have it if you want; I can make another one.” She finally managed to find the car door handle and wrenched it open, moving to jump out of the car.

 

“Mate, just—” Gavin reached out a hand to grab her arm and pulled her back. “Would you relax? Look, I know offering you a lift out of bloody nowhere is actually quite creepy, but I assure you, I am _not_ a psycho axe murderer. So please, at least let me help you get a cab.”

 

Barbara, still too scared to listen to Gavin, tried to pull her hand away. “Let me _go,_ you creepy fuck!”

 

“No, please, just let me—”

 

“ _Gavino Free._ I let you borrow the Cosmobile for a couple of hours and you’re already trying to harass a random girl in it? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Both people stopped to look through the windshield and out in the empty street, which was already occupied by a bearded, middle-aged man who had tattoos running up and down his arms, which were crossed in front of his chest. He had a dishtowel draped over his left shoulder and was frowning over at them from where he stood.

 

“Shit, it’s my boss,” said Gavin, and promptly let go of Barbara’s arm. Rubbing the offended body part, she glared at him and stepped out of the smoking vehicle, with Gavin following suit.

 

“Sorry, Geoff, it just broke down, I really didn’t—”

 

“Would you mind explaining to me why you have a girl in my car?” Geoff asked, sounding terse.

 

“Erm,” Gavin turned to look at Barbara as if saying, _help me!_ She huffed and looked away. “Well, er, see, Barbara here has this huge hammer _thing_ that she needs to get to her apartment, and she really looked like she needed some help, so I offered her a lift…?” He ended the narrative on a questioning note, his face scrunching up in a wince as if doubting that Geoff would accept his story. Sure enough, his boss didn’t look like he believed a word his employee said.

 

“Is that true?” he asked, now addressing Barbara, who started.

 

“Oh, um—”

 

“C’mon! I was just trying to help—”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin.”

 

“Well, uh.” Barbara glanced at Gavin, who was standing there looking quite indignant. _Oh, well. She_ was _the one who accepted the ride, after all._ “Y-yeah. That’s true.”

 

“I swear to god, Gavin. If you were actually having sex with a girl in my car I’ll—”

 

“Oh my _god!_ She already said I was right, okay?”

 

Geoff heaved a long suffering sigh and shook his head, uncrossing his arms and levelling both of them with a look. “All right. Looks like the Cosmobile’s going to need a bit of work before it’s running again. Meanwhile, I’d just like to say I’m sorry that my employee here caused you trouble.” He was now addressing Barbara, pointedly ignoring Gavin’s defensive sputter. “Please have a sandwich in our shop as my way of apology. It’s on me.”

 

“I’m really not—” The sound of her stomach grumbling put an end to that statement. “Well, uh. I guess I could really use that sandwich right now.”

 

“Right, well,” Gavin interjected, trying to edge around his boss lest he do another thing to incur his full wrath. “I should probably tell Michael to set up that order.”

 

\--

 

The Beach City Grill was actually a really nice sandwich shop, and not a hideaway for psycho serial rapists as it had looked to Barbara a few minutes ago in the back street. It had two resident patrons: a man named Jack who seemed to be in pretty good terms with Geoff, and Ryan, who kept to himself in one of the booths and always brought a comic book with him. The staff wasn’t too bad, either. There was Gavin, who was actually really just a Nice Guy trying to help as well as the shop’s only waiter; Ray, a bespectacled Hispanic guy who tended to the counter and the online orders via the restaurant’s website; and Michael, who manned the kitchen stove and, like Geoff, had a lot of tattoos on his arms, as well as several shiny piercings on his head.

 

The sandwiches, however, were _heavenly._ Barbara had to keep herself from swooning as she took a bite from the triple decker that Geoff served her a few moments ago. Realizing she had closed her eyes, she opened them and saw Ray grinning at her from where he was sitting in front of the computer.

 

“Good, huh?” he said knowingly.

 

A bit embarrassed, Barbara nodded and resumed eating at a more ladylike pace.

 

“Hey, Michael!” She heard Ray call from the counter to where the cook was flipping slabs of meat over at the frying stove. “She thinks your cooking’s awesome!”

 

“Never isn’t!” Michael called back, not looking up from his work. Gavin chuckled as he passed by him, carrying a tray stacked with food.

 

“Well, look who suddenly learned how to pick up the ladies,” said Gavin, sidestepping Ray and delivering the plate to one of the booths. As soon as he was finished, he moved to stand in front of Barbara’s table, oblivious to the glare Michael was shooting his way.

 

“Hey,” he said, charming smile perfectly set in place once again. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I really was just trying to help.”

 

“No, don’t worry,” Barbara said, shaking her head and giving him a helpless grin. “I’m the one who freaked out. I should be the one saying sorry.”

 

“Hitting on the customers again, Free?” Geoff called from somewhere behind the counter. “Why don’t you get back here and do your fucking job for once?”

 

“Shit,” Gavin muttered, and promptly left Barbara’s side to get back to the kitchen. “I was only asking if the food’s fine, you paranoid _arse_ hole.”

 

Barbara wondered how many of the restaurant’s customers Gavin had already managed to pick up, considering the fact that his boss was actually calling him out on it. He certainly was _attractive,_ that she could see, and that English accent wasn’t dampening any of his chances, too. Right. Barbara could see how he could charm the pants off any unwitting lady customer. She _did_ accept a ride from him just more than an hour ago, didn’t she?

 

“Well if you started filling in the staff, I wouldn’t have a problem doing my job, would I?” Gavin called out from the kitchen in retaliation to another scolding Geoff was probably giving him.

 

Wait.

 

Barbara put down her sandwich and chewed contemplatively as she thought about Gavin’s statement. _A job vacancy, huh?_

Well, it didn’t hurt to ask.

 

She took a few more bites, effectively finishing the scrumptious meal, and stood up from the booth. She approached Ray at the counter, who looked up from where he was grinning at the computer and addressed her with the air of someone being caught off guard.

 

“Oh—um. Hey. Geoff said you don’t have to—”

 

“Oh uh, yeah, thanks about that,” Barbara gave him her best smile possible. “But I was actually gonna ask you about a different thing.”

 

“Yeah?” Ray turned to give her his full attention.

 

“Well uh,” Barbara fidgeted where she stood before deciding to go in for the kill. “I heard Gavin say something about the staff still needing to be filled in. I want to apply for a job.”

 

“Um, about that…” Ray gave her a half-grin and pointed towards a sign near the front door. It read: _HELP WANTED – Normal people need NOT apply._

“Oh.” Barbara was a bit taken aback. “Okay, well. I’m definitely _not_ normal.” She watched as Ray stared at her disbelievingly. “Really.” She reaffirmed. Geoff, apparently hearing their conversation, approached them and flipped his dishtowel down on the wooden surface of the counter.

 

“Oh yeah?” Geoff looked at her appraisingly. “Can you prove it?”

 

“I have a huge hammer in your car’s back seat,” Barbara pointed out.

 

“…and?” Geoff said, as if carrying a massive prop hammer was a thing people do on a daily basis.

 

“And I’m gonna use it for cosplay?” Barbara said. As Geoff remained unimpressed, she added, “…also, uh, I’m Canadian?”

 

“Oooh, another foreigner, sign me up!” came Gavin’s voice from somewhere in the back room.

 

Geoff rolled his eyes at that. Somewhere behind Barbara, Jack piped up.

 

“You could actually give her an interview, you know.”

 

“Right,” Geoff said, as if forgetting to interview employees was a normal thing for him. It probably was. “Okay, Barb. Elvis: Dead or Alive?”

 

“Dead?” Barbara said, because who were they kidding?

 

“Andy Kauffman?” Ray said.

 

“Dead.”

 

“Jerry Garcia?” That was Geoff again.

 

“Grateful? And… dead.” A muffled “Hah!” issued from the back room.

 

“Mariah Carey.” That one came from Michael, who had left the stove to actually listen to what was happening.

 

Barbara stared at him. “Are you talking about her acting career, or…?”

 

Michael grinned. “No.”

 

“Okay, then, alive.” Barbara was pretty sure she answered everything right. Didn’t she?

 

“Are you a virgin?” Gavin called, peeking out of the back room. Geoff threw his dish towel at him.

 

“Uh, no,” said Barbara, smiling widely and chuckling. “But I used to be.”

 

Geoff looked like he was debating whether to ask her something or not. “…Are you into sculpting, by any chance?”

 

“Well,” Barbara said, taken aback at the random question. “Not really. Is that a job requirement?”

 

“Nah,” said Ray, grinning. “It’s just that Geoff’s blazing for the chick who owns the wood sculpting store across the street. He’s probably thinking of using you as bait.”

 

“I can pretend to like sculpting if you want? I’m also a pretty good wingman.” Barbara winked at Geoff conspiratorially.

 

“Perfect,” Geoff said, beaming at her as if she was his newest favorite thing in the world. “You’re hired.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Michael left the counter and went back to the stove. Ray just chuckled and continued working on the computer, while Geoff was looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes that promised Barbara he was going to cash in on that wingman duty one of these days.

 

She couldn’t care less, though. She already had a job in what probably was the best sandwich shop in Santa Cruz.

 

Gavin burst out of the back room, looking quite pleased. He went over to where Barbara was and draped an arm over her shoulder. “It’s about time we brought in a pretty face around here,” he said, smiling at her. “I was getting tired of the sausage fest, to be honest.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin.”

 

“Sorry, boss.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s that?” Ray asked, staring at the mid-sized wooden box Barbara had plonked down on the counter that morning as she came in. It was her first day of working in the Beach City Grill, and apparently everyone was curious about the new kid.

 

“Um, that’s just my art stuff,” said Barbara offhandedly as she put on her apron. “I need them for class, later.”

 

“So you can paint, too?” Michael called from where he was flipping burgers on the stove, sounding interested. “Do you, like, paint people pissing on things, shit like that?”

 

“Uh, no. Not really,” said Barbara, grinning apologetically. “No people pissing on things, sorry. I mostly make props and sketch weapons and stuff.”

 

“Hey, Geoff,” said Gavin, emerging from the back room and pointing the spatula he was holding over at the stretch of white wall on one side of the shop, which was adorned by small bits of seashell and starfish.

 

“Oh, yeah,” said Geoff, turning to address Barbara. “You can paint that wall over there if you want. No people pissing on things, I promise. Well, that is, if you don’t want to.”

 

Barbara chuckled and smiled at Geoff. “Of course I’ll paint your wall.” Geoff gave her a bright grin and turned back to whatever he was doing on the counter, but stopped short as he spied something out of the shop window.

 

Everyone else in the shop followed his line of sight to the street across from the restaurant, where a woman was currently passing by. Like Geoff, she had an array of tattoos that took up most of her arms and beautiful blonde hair that glowed under the bright sun.

 

“That’s Griffon,” said Ray, watching in amusement as Geoff practically fell over the countertop trying to get a better look. “She’s the lady who owns the wood carving shop across the street. She can make stuff with chainsaws and flamethrowers. How badass is that?”

 

“Pretty badass,” said Barbara, nodding. She then saw Griffon stop right outside the door to her store and turn to look towards them. The woman gave them a small, friendly smile before turning back to open the door.

 

“See?” Geoff said, turning to beam at them excitedly. “She _knows_ things.”

 

“She seems nice, Geoff,” said Barbara, grinning over at the man. Geoff smiled at her gratefully before going back to mooning over Griffon’s retreating back. It was insanely adorable, if Barbara was to be honest.

 

“So, what brings you over to Santa Cruz?” Gavin said from somewhere around her back.

 

Barbara opened her mouth to answer the question but stopped when she saw that it was _not_ actually directed at her. Gavin was currently charming the pants off a girl who was leaning over the cash register and showing an incredible amount of ass and tit. She seemed quite smitten with Gavin, who then reached over and twirled a bit of her hair, before whispering something in her ear that made her giggle prettily and bat her lashes at him.

 

Over at the booths, Jack and Ryan were both ogling where the small bit of shorts were riding up over her ass cheeks. Barbara shook her head and turned to Ray, who shrugged.

 

“Aaaand here we go again,” she heard Michael say from the stove.

 

“Well, you know, uh, with my last girlfriend I…” Gavin started sounding bashful and hesitant. Barbara watched as the girl leaned over a couple more inches, a concerned frown taking over her features.

 

“What is it?” she asked, and Gavin looked down on his hands, biting his lip for effect.

 

“She… broke my heart, you know,” said Gavin in an almost-whisper. “I just came home after work one day and there she was. In our bed. With another man.”

 

Behind him, Michael rolled his eyes exasperatedly and began prodding at the patties with more force than was necessary. Beside Barbara, Ray just shook his head and resumed typing in his computer.

 

“Oh my god,” Barbara whispered at Ray. “She seriously wouldn’t fall for that, would she?”

 

“I’m—I’m sorry,” came the girl’s teary voice. Barbara watched in amazement as she reached over the counter to hug Gavin. “You know, we can talk about this more if you want. I’d really like to hear about it.”

 

“Th-thanks,” said Gavin. The fucker was even _sniffling._ “I’d love that.” He gave the woman a watery grin.

 

The girl was eating it all up, everyone in the shop could tell. “Right, maybe I’ll give you my number and we can hook up whenever you’re free?”

 

“Sure,” said Gavin, and let the girl write her number on his palm. Ray was sniggering beside Barbara, and Geoff just huffed and turned away like Gavin making up sob stories just to pick chicks up was a daily occurrence in the Beach City Grill.

 

The woman gave Gavin a kiss on the cheek before leaving. “I’ll see you around,” she said, before giving him a pretty smile and sashaying out of the shop with her sandwich bag. As soon as she left, Gavin turned to look at everyone else, a victorious expression plastered on his face.

 

“You’re fucking disgusting,” said Michael, turning to level Gavin with a glare.

 

“Hey, if people are that easy to manipulate, then they deserve being taken advantage of,” said Gavin, shrugging like it was a perfectly reasonable explanation for his actions.

 

Michael dropped the tongs he was holding on the counter and held up his hands, challenging Gavin with a stare. “I’m easy to manipulate. Why not take advantage of me?”

 

Gavin didn’t even bother to respond, and just grimaced as he started to pay attention to the order tickets he was supposed to be dealing with. Geoff watched the interaction and sighed, deciding to intervene.

 

“You know what your problem is, Michael? You’re always going after the pretty boys. You gotta raise your expectations, man.”

 

Gavin looked up from the forms, an offended look on his face. “Excuse me?”

 

Geoff was unruffled. “But really, good looking men? They’re really high maintenance. And without exception, completely worthless between the sheets.”

 

Michael moved to stand beside Ray, his face set in rapt attention. “Seriously?”

 

Geoff nodded solemnly. “God’s truth.”

 

“Certainly been my experience,” said Jack from his booth.

 

“Oh, pft. You guys are pathetic,” said Gavin, and resumed dealing with the orders.

 

“Take Gavin, for example,” Geoff continued. “Women and men alike are so pumped to be with a pretty boy like him that all he’s gotta do is lay back and enjoy the ride. See? That way he’s _never_ gonna develop any skills in bed.” Beside him, Gavin was looking more and more indignant.

 

“I second that,” called Jack.

 

“Hey!” Gavin interjected defensively. “I work hard!”

 

“Hey, don’t get me wrong,” said Geoff, giving Gavin an apologetic grin. “Attractive men are great to look at. Just don’t go home with the prom king. Give him the crown, he’ll never go down.”

 

Gavin huffed and crossed his arms. “I _was_ the prom king.”

 

“Well, I rest my case,” said Geoff, his grin spreading wider on his face.

 

If looks could kill, Geoff would’ve been dead by then. Gavin slapped down the order forms and approached Geoff. “That’s it. You and me, in the office. I’ll show you how I earn my crown!” He leveled him with a challenging glare and stormed past Michael, Ray, and Barbara into the back office.

 

“Pretty boys,” said Geoff, chuckling as he called after Gavin. “They’re so easy to manipulate. They deserve what they get!”

 

The rest of the staff started laughing. Incensed and more than a little bit embarrassed, Gavin threw his apron across the room and yelled “Dicks!” before walking out, the ringing laughter of the shop’s occupants chasing him into the back room.

 

“Nice,” said Michael, a large grin on his face as they watched Gavin disappear. “Nice!”

 

“Uh, Mike,” Barbara said, pointing to the stove that had been ignored for most of the conversation.

 

“Oh, fuck!” Michael said, and went to deal with the chunks of cow that were currently burning on their kitchen equipment.

 

\--

 

_Bleep. Bleep._

“Ray, your Skype’s acting up again,” said Gavin from where he was wiping one of the restaurant tables. It was already nighttime, and the shop was about to close.

 

Barbara, who was working on her latest project beside Ray, definitely saw the bright grin that instantly took over the man’s face as went over to type into his chat box. Leaning over to spy at what he was doing, she read the messages.

 

“Fuzzy22?” She said, and Ray turned to look at her. He blushed and gave her a sheepish grin.

 

“Um, yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his head bashfully. “We’ve-we’ve been chatting for over a year, now.”

 

“Yeah?” Barbara said, shifting excitedly over the counter. “Tell me about him—her. Is Fuzzy a girl or a…?”

 

“She’s a girl,” Ray said, his face still flushed with heat. “Well, at least I hope she is. We agreed not to exchange any identifying information.”

 

Barbara nodded. “So basically she could be Charles Manson with a laptop.”

 

“Bingo,” called Gavin from the tables.

 

“Don’t knock it,” said Michael as he wiped the last of the grime away from the frying stove. “I think Fuzzy’s good. Well, at least she is for Ray.”

 

Ray turned to smile over at Michael. “Thanks, bro.”

 

“How’d you know?” Barbara asked. Michael shrugged.

 

“I feel things,” he said nonchalantly. Gavin gave him a disbelieving stare from where he stood. “What? Maybe I do.”

 

Barbara patted him on the back patronizingly and turned to Ray. “Hey, maybe Michael’s right. Who knows?”

 

Ray grinned back at her. “Yeah, thanks Barb.”

 

“I just think you need to be careful, you know,” said Gavin, who was now mopping the floor. “I worry about you, mate.”

 

Ray chuckled and looked back down on his lap, adjusting his glasses on his face. “Yeah, but, you know. It makes me feel nice, having a friend like Fuzzy. She just… knows me.”

 

“I’m happy for you, really,” said Barbara sincerely. Because, well. Who was she to argue with a face like that?

 

Gavin huffed as continued to clean the store’s vinyl flooring. Ignoring Gavin, Ray turned back to chatting on Skype, a small smile present on his face throughout the whole conversation. As night grew to a close, Barbara finished her project, occasionally glancing over to Ray, who kept bursting into small chuckles as he typed into the steadily-filling chat box.

 

The sight made her wonder just how much she’d probably like to be happy as Ray was with his lady friend, virtual or not.

 

But then again, it wasn’t like she was looking for _that_ right now, was she?


	3. Chapter 3

It was chilly out as Barbara walked home from the sandwich shop, her art project balanced precariously in front of her on top of her art kit. She struggled with the weight of the material as she trudged down the sloping sidewalk, cursing the cold autumn weather and the fact that she was still too shit-poor to buy her own car.

 

 _Maybe I need another job,_ she thought to herself as she almost skidded down a particularly wet patch of cobbled pavement. But then again, being in art school and working in the local deli was probably enough to give her wrinkles more than a decade too early.

 

Despairing over her lack of ability to have a comfortable college lifestyle, Barbara decided to just suck it up and hurry on to her apartment, where she’d at least be able to take a long bubble bath and forget most of her worries for maybe an hour or two.

 

The streets were empty as she came to the end of the block. The traffic light was green, which meant she still had to press the button and wait to cross, but then again, there weren’t any cars going about either.

 

She’d already taken a couple of steps onto the asphalt road when the sound of a car honking loudly at her and skidding to a stop just a few inches away from where she stood sent her finished art project flying across the street.

 

“Jesus—what the fuck, lady?” Barbara squinted through the lights to see a man glaring back at her through his windshield. He stepped out of his car and slammed the door shut, moving to approach her frozen form. “Are you fucking blind? The traffic light’s on green!” He pointed at the said object in an effort emphasize Barbara’s apparent stupidity.

 

“Oh, um,” Barbara mumbled, still to shaken to formulate an actual response. “I’m—I’m sorry. I guess I was too tired—”

 

“Everyone’s tired this time of the night, ma’am, but that doesn’t excuse your idiocy,” the man spat at her. He had curly brown hair that was neatly cropped and a well-maintained five o’clock shadow. He was wearing a rumpled business shirt and a tie that looked like it had seen better days. _He_ looked like he had seen better days. Barbara swallowed and levelled the guy with her own glare.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? People make mistakes. And if you haven’t noticed, my art project is well and effectively destroyed because _I_ did something _stupid._ Okay? I’m fucking failing this class now. You happy?” She huffed and stormed across the street to gather the remnants of her work, pointedly ignoring the rude man behind her. As she was in the middle of picking up the wooden bits of what had been her finished masterpiece, she heard the revving of an engine and squealing of tires as the man apparently _left her_ sitting there and sped away into the foggy gloom.

 

“What a bastard,” Barbara muttered, and managed to gather everything together before standing up and resuming the long journey to her apartment. She wished that the man would get hit by a flying owl along the way and suffer his untimely, but well-deserved, demise.

 

Maybe she’d watch the news the next few nights. If it actually happened, that particular accident would be the highlight of her otherwise spectacularly miserable week.

 

\--

 

Unlike most of his contemporaries, Barbara’s professor wasn’t actually a bad person, and assigned her a make-up project for the one she had failed to pass. Grateful and pretty damn relieved, Barbara exited the class that day with some of her uni friends, Lindsay and Kara, who were chattering about the anime convention that was happening in a couple of days. Barbara was going to join in the conversation and tell them about the prop hammer she made when the presence of a familiar mop of brown, curly hair stopped her in her tracks.

 

“Hey, guys,” she said, grabbing at Lindsay’s arm and catching her friend’s attention. She pointed to the man currently engaged in conversation with another middle-aged Hispanic guy near the staircase. “That man, you know who he is?”

 

Lindsay shrugged, but Kara perked up and said, “Ooh, that’s Professor Burns. He’s in the Film Department. I had him for my Intro to Film Studies last year. That guy’s pretty hardcore.”

 

Barbara’s eyes widened, and she stared at her friend, who looked back at her in confusion. “ _He’s_ a teacher here?”

 

“Yeah,” said Kara, looking bewildered. “Why, do you know him?”

 

“Um,” said Barbara, struggling to explain. “Well, uh, he sort of is the reason why I have to do extra credit for set design class.”

 

“What happened?” Lindsay asked, concerned. Barbara shrugged.

 

“Well, he kind of _almost_ ran over me last night?” She winced at the memory. “But don’t worry, it was completely my fault. I wasn’t paying attention to the traffic light and crossed the street at go,” she added hastily, seeing the look of worry that crossed her friends’ faces.

 

Lindsay raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “God, Barb. You are such a klutz sometimes, you know that?”

 

Barbara sighed. “Yeah. He wouldn’t let me forget that fact, either.”

 

“He can be a bit… intense, sometimes,” said Kara, giving her a sympathetic smile. Barbara just nodded and hoped she didn’t run into Professor Burns any time soon, or ever.

 

“Sup, ladies?” A guy from her class stopped in front of them, a shorter man in tow.

 

“Hey, Miles, Kerry,” said Lindsay in greeting. The boys grinned at them and Kerry put out a hand, thrusting a neon-green flyer to their faces.

 

“What’s this?” Barbara asked, taking the piece of paper and looking at its contents.

 

“It’s a part time job,” Miles explained, pointing at the details on the print out. “I’m currently involved in a film project in one of my major classes with Kerry, and they’re looking for people who can do the production design work for them.” He nodded over at the girls. “That’s you, guys.”

 

“Sorry, boys,” said Lindsay. “I already have a job.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Kara put in.

 

“What about you, Barb?” Kerry said. “You were looking for some extra cash for comic con, right?”

 

“Yeah, I would, but I already got a job this week,” said Barbara regretfully. “Although this really looks fun.”

 

“It is,” said Miles, and shrugged. “Oh well. If you guys decide you have some spare time on your hands, tell us, okay? We need all the help we can get.” He then dragged Kerry off to bother other people milling about in the crowded corridor. Barbara watched them leave, and looked back down to the flyer she was clutching in her hands.

 

_Well, I really do need the money…_

Lindsay furrowed her brows as she sensed something in Barbara’s silence. “You’re not considering taking that job, are you?”

 

Realizing she was being watched, Barbara looked up and gave Lindsay a sheepish grin. “I really need the extra cash, Linds.”

 

And with that, she took off in pursuit of Miles and Kerry. “Hey—hey guys! Wait up!”

 

\--

 

“So… you’re the new set design chick.”

 

A tall, good-looking man wearing a loose-fitting shirt approached Barbara and stared at her appraisingly. She stared back, wondering why exactly the posturing was needed in this scenario.

 

“Yeah, uh. Miles and Kerry told me about the vacancy. I can, like, make your props for you if you want.” She stuck her hands deep into her pockets and gave the man an unsure grin.

 

The man stared at her for another few seconds before bursting into a wide smile and putting out his hand. “Perfect! I’m Joel, by the way. I’m friends with the director-slash-scriptwriter. My job is to oversee most of the filming along with Gus, another one of our guys.”

 

“Cool,” said Barbara, taking out a hand to shake Joel’s. “So, what do you need me to do?”

 

“Well, you’re gonna have to talk to the director first. He’s the one who knows what we stuff we need to get built.” Joel turned and called over to one of the back rooms of the auditorium. “Hey, Burnie! Your set design staff’s here!”

 

“About fucking time!” another voice yelled back. If Barbara wasn’t mistaken, there was something very _familiar_ about that voice…

 

 _Oh, fuck._ Barbara fucking _knew_ there was something shady about the job Miles and Kerry were peddling about in the campus. Sure enough, Burnie the Director walked out from backstage, and he was _also_ Professor Burns, aka the Rude Bastard who sent Barbara’s project flying into oblivion last night in the streets.

 

She looked around in panic, trying and failing to find a way to hide herself before the man looked up from the script he was very much concentrated on. Joel, apparently oblivious to the mini-crisis Barbara was having somewhere to his right, called on Burnie’s attention by snapping his fingers in front of him.

 

“Burnie. _Burnie!_ Look, this is Barbara, she’s our new set design staff!” He grabbed Barbara by the shoulders and pushed her in front of the man, who briefly glanced up from his script, and then did a double take. His expression turned infuriated.

 

“Wait, I fucking know you,” he said, staring at Barbara with a frown marring his face. Beside her, Joel looked confused. “You’re that chick from last night! The idiot who almost got herself run over!”

 

“Yeah,” said Barbara, suddenly feeling very small in the large, chilly school auditorium. “That’s me.”

 

“ _You’re_ doing set design?” Burnie said, and scoffed. “You can’t even fucking tell if the traffic light’s green or red!”

 

“That was an _accident,_ okay,” Barbara said, feeling increasingly upset. “I said sorry! What more do you want from me?”

 

“Whoa, whoa,” said Joel, putting a hand out to stop the obviously rude reply Burnie was about to spit out. “Am I missing something here? Have you two met before? Because, really, someone should probably explain—and calmly, please. We’re adults, not toddlers fighting for balls in Chuck E. Cheese.”

 

Burnie snorted, earning a glare from Joel. Barbara just shook her head and walked over to one of the seats to grab her bag. “Look, I obviously made a mistake applying for the job. Your director doesn’t want me here. _He’s_ the boss. So I’m just gonna…” She shot Burnie one last, withering glare before turning away and starting to leave.

 

“Wait!” Joel shot from where he stood to grab her arm and stop her from leaving. “Look, Burnie’s just had a long day and he’s not exactly the nicest guy you’ll meet, so just _try_ to ignore him, okay?” He pointedly ignored Burnie’s indignant sputter and barreled on. “We _really_ need someone to do set design for us, and you sound perfect for job. Can you please consider staying and helping us out?” He gave her his best pleading look, and Barbara bit her lip for a moment before she caved, closing her eyes and heaving a sigh.

 

“I know I’m gonna regret this sooner or later, but fine.” She gave him a small smile. “I’ll work for you.”

 

“Awesome!” Joel instantly brightened. He then walked over to where Burnie was standing, grabbed him by the arm, and promptly dragged him to where Barbara was.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Burnie protested, wrenching his arm away from Joel’s hand as they approached.

 

“Alright,” said Joel, clapping his hands and putting one on Barbara and Burnie’s shoulders each. “Let’s do this properly. Burnie, go tell the nice lady about the design plans you drafted out last night. Barbara, no running away, alright? I’ll keep the boss-man in check for you.”

 

Burnie glared daggers at Joel before giving up, rolling his eyes and flipping the script to the front page. “Fine. I have some design ideas here that I need you to—”

 

He was cut-off as the door to the auditorium burst open and two people walked in. First was the man Barbara had seen talking to Burnie in the corridor earlier. He was then followed by— _wait, what?_

“Geoff?” She called over to her boss, who stopped short near the top of the stairs and squinted down at her, looking quite bewildered.

 

“Barbara?” Geoff turned to look at Joel and Burnie, and then yelled, “What the hell is my employee doing in your fucking auditorium?”

 

\--

 

A couple of hours later, Barbara emerged from the university feeling like she just wanted to crawl into her bed and pass out for the next fifty years. It had been a tiring first day for her in her second job. After much confusion, it had finally been explained to her that Geoff was a longtime college friend of Burnie’s, along with Joel and Gus, and that the four of them were producing the feature film that Barbara was supposed to work on. Geoff, who had been quite concerned with the fact that Barbara was probably biting off more than she could chew by taking on two jobs, took her aside and tried to talk her out of it.

 

“Look, boss, I’m fine,” Barbara had said, giving Geoff a bright grin in an effort to placate the worried man. “Besides, I really need all the cash I can get right now. We artists are actually shit-poor, you know.”

 

After much reassuring, Barbara had succeeded in convincing Geoff that she could indeed take care of herself, and that Burnie’s attitude problem wasn’t going to bother her—well, not _that_ much, she hoped—during her employment in the film production. He then let her return to being briefed by the surly director, who proceeded to act like Barbara wasn’t actually _there_ and churned out set design plans in perfect, rebellious monotone, much to her annoyance and Joel’s exasperation.

 

“Hey, Barb!” Joel called out to her once they finished conceptualizing the designs and there was nothing else left for her to do. “You’re probably gonna need another set of hands to help you with all this work. Find someone else to work in set design, will you?”

 

“Where am I gonna find _that_?” Barbara asked herself as she trudged across the street leading to the Beach City Grill. “It’s not like I have the time to scout for employees, at the rate I’m going.”

 

 _Brrrrrrm!_ The sound of a chainsaw being revved up disrupted her from her thoughts, and Barbara looked for the source of the noise.

 

She then spotted a mop of blonde hair leaning over a huge chunk of wood inside the glass-paneled shop that was the wood carving store across the Grill. Griffon was currently engaged in sculpting the formidable surface with her scary-as-fuck carving tool. The silver glint of her nose ring twinkled at Barbara from the distance, and the girl felt a plan starting to formulate at the back of her mind.

 

When she was done, Geoff and Burnie wouldn’t fucking know what hit them.


	4. Chapter 4

“C’mon, Jones, we all know Michael’s _not_ your real name. Geoff told us once when we got him drunk,” said Ray, turning from his computer to fix Michael with a stare.

 

The man spared a second to send a look of utter betrayal over at their shrugging boss before turning back to the stove and flipping his current batch of burgers.

 

“Fuck you, I’m not telling any of you assholes,” he said, pressing harder on the hunk of cow meat than was probably necessary. “Everyone’s calling me _Michael_ and that’s that.”

 

“Aw, Mi- _cool_ , don’t be like that,” Gavin cooed as he passed by, a tray of empty plates in tow. He dropped the items on the counter beside Michael and grabbed the hem of the man’s shirt to catch his attention. “C’mon, I’ll blow you if you tell us.”

 

Michael’s eyes widened, his murderous rampage on the burger patties suddenly put on hold as he turned to stare at Gavin. “You will?”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and reached over to grab the plates again. “Pfft. No.” He slipped into the back room, leaving Michael standing there looking quite put off.

 

“That was rude,” Barbara said, eyebrows raised as she watched from where she was currently painting the restaurant wall.

 

“Michael’s used to it,” said Ray, but he went over to give the man a sympathetic pat on the back anyway. “Gavin enjoys being a cocktease, especially when he knows the other guy’s begging for it.”

 

“I’m not _begging_ for it!” Michael said indignantly. Ray just snorted.

 

“Yeah, you are, dude,” he said, rubbing his arm sympathetically before moving back to face his computer. “You most definitely are.”

 

Barbara grinned and resumed sketching out the starting points of what she was planning to paint as the Santa Cruz beach. She wondered how long Michael had been holding a torch for Gavin and why Gavin wouldn’t do anything about the really obvious fact. The man wasn’t even bad looking or anything. Well, he probably had piercings where piercings shouldn’t be and more tattoos than bare skin, but that was sort of hot, wasn’t it?

 

Man, she really needed to get laid.

 

The entrance to the sandwich shop burst open and sent the door chimes jangling, steering Barbara away from pondering the miserable and long winding road that was her sex life. Turning around to look at the newcomers, she almost dropped her brush at the floor because, well, _fuck_.

 

Two incredibly good-looking men sauntered into the shop, catching the attention of every person in the room. Ryan even put down his comic book for a bit, and Jack was sitting in his booth looking vaguely threatened.

 

“Hey, how can I—” Ray’s greeting was promptly cut-off by the sudden appearance of Gavin, who slipped in beside him and fixed his trademark charming grin on both men.

 

“What can I do for you two?” he asked, grabbing the order pad Ray silently waved in front of him.

 

One of the customers, a handsome man with dark, windswept hair, stunning green eyes, and rippling muscles easily visible through his thin, black V-neck shirt, sauntered forward and leaned onto the counter, his gaze fixed on Gavin as well.

 

“Two spicy Italian subs,” he said, a small smile stretching his lips. Gavin dropped the pad on the counter and levelled the man with his own flirtatious stare before responding.

 

“How big?”

 

The man bit his lip in an incredibly fetching manner and replied. “Ten inches.”

 

Gavin raised one teasing eyebrow. “Total?”

 

“Each, of course.”

 

Beside the man, his companion smirked over at Gavin. Gavin swallowed, looking like he’d like nothing else than to grab the man by the scruff of his neck and make love with him over the countertop with everyone else in the shop there to watch. Barbara could practically _feel_ his boner where she was standing.

 

Behind Gavin, Michael was busy stuffing the ordered sandwiches into paper packets with barely concealed murderous rage. Barbara felt sorry for the guy.

 

Ray was already holding out the men’s orders to Gavin, who was still staring at the customers like a lion about to pounce on its prey. Ray cleared his throat and Gavin started, turning to grab the sandwiches and sliding them over to the men. “I’m Gavin.”

 

The man didn’t respond. Rather, he took the food and, with one last smoldering glance at Gavin, sauntered out of the shop, stopping by the door one last time to send him a wink. His companion, a much taller guy with brown, short-cropped hair and the same amount of well-defined muscles, grinned flirtatiously at Gavin before following his friend out into the street.

 

Gavin was left staring longingly at the men’s retreating backs, the order pad clenched tightly in his fists.

 

“That worked for anybody else.”

 

Beside him, Ray tried very hard to stifle his grin.

 

\--

 

The next morning passed uneventfully in the shop, which was probably a relief, considering all the drama that happened just yesterday. Gavin was still sitting longingly in one corner of the booth when lunchtime came, while Michael was busy seething over the stove. It didn’t take a genius to know why the latter was such in a bad mood.

 

Ray, as per usual, was sitting in front of the computer and typing like a madman. Whether he was taking care of online orders or just Fuzzy22, no one could tell, but Barbara had long since learned that nobody actually minded the man spending all day in front of the device and occasionally bursting into blushing giggles as he typed. In fact, everyone seemed to encourage it. Ray was, after all, incredibly awkward in all forms of social interaction, as was regularly evidenced by his daily encounters with the shop’s varied consumer populace.

 

A few minutes past twelve, while Ray was busy frowning over something on his computer screen, the door to the restaurant swung open and a harried-looking woman came in, decked in full corporate attire and clutching a sandwich in her left hand. She was also talking in angry, whispered tones to her bedazzled iPhone, which was plastered to her right ear.

 

“What? What is _my_ problem? My _problem_ is that we got married in the first place! Hold—hold on for a second.” She lowered the phone and leaned over the counter to where Ray was sitting.

 

“Excuse me,” she said, sounding terse. Ray, apparently too absorbed in whatever he was doing on his computer, paid her no heed.

 

“ _Hello,_ excuse me!” The woman rapped the counter surface just in front of Ray. The man started in his seat and looked up at her, an expression of surprise on his face.

 

“Oh! I—I’m sorry, I—” Ray said, sounding quite embarrassed.

 

The woman didn’t look like she was in the mood to tolerate Ray’s distraction and just rolled her eyes, picking her sandwich up and waving it in his face.

 

“I ordered a twelve-inch sub. Does _this_ look like twelve inches to you?”

 

“I, uh—”

 

“I’m really sorry about that.” Gavin swooped in to save the day, flashing a wide smile over at the woman and bringing another six-inch sub with him. “Ray here is just a bit distracted with online orders. You know how men are when charged with multitasking.” He handed the woman the extra sandwich and grinned even wider, leaning over to help her tuck the food inside a paper bag.

 

“Next time you want to buy a sandwich, come look for me, alright? I’ll never get your orders wrong.” He finished packing the food in and handed them over to the lady with a wink. The woman, obviously charmed by Gavin, just accepted the bag and swallowed, blushing slightly. She looked a bit starry eyed as she attempted to tuck a curl behind her ear and promptly dropped her iPhone on the floor, effectively sending it skidding on the slippery, tiled surface.

 

“Oh! Um—” The rest of the shop watched in silent amusement as the woman kept dropping other things trying to retrieve her phone from the floor. It was incredibly painful to watch, and more than a little awkward for everyone involved. Gavin finally took pity on her and helped her gather everything up, handing the offending items to the now beet-red lady and flashing her with his charming grin.

 

“I’ll see you around,” he said, and the women nodded, giving him a grateful smile and rushing out of the shop in embarrassment.

 

As soon as he was sure the lady was out of earshot, Gavin turned to Ray, his expression suddenly businesslike.

 

“All right, Ray. What’s up? You’ve never messed up an order.”

 

“Yeah, what happened? Fuzzy’s mother finally take her computer away?” Michael asked, sounding quite curious.

 

“No, actually, she wants to meet.” Ray gestured over to the chat messages on the screen, his expression troubled. Gavin heaved a sigh and walked over to lay a hand on Ray’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t do it, Ray. You don’t know anything about her!”

 

“Wait a second,” said Michael, setting down his spatula on the counter. “Why does this freak you out? You’d go home with anyone who gives you lip service.”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and turned to face the man. “I _talk_ to them first, you knob. Besides, I can take care of myself. This is… Ray we’re talking about.”

 

Barbara then decided to intervene. “Wait a second—reality check, guys. I mean, this person could live in Madagascar.”

 

“Yeah! Or, uh, Schenectady!”

 

Ray bit his lip. “She lives down near LA. She told me.”

 

“Did you tell her you’re in Santa Cruz?”

 

Ray’s guilty expression was answer enough.

 

“Jesus, Ray!” Gavin said, sounding exasperated. “Tell me you didn’t tell her your real name?”

 

“No,” said Ray, shaking his head. “She only knows me as BrownMan.”

 

Behind Gavin, Michael tried to stifle a snort.

 

“So what now, BrownMan?” Barbara asked, ignoring the offending sound and approaching Ray where he sat.

 

Ray appeared to contemplate it for a bit, before he looked up and spoke. “I’m gonna think about it.”

 

Gavin nodded and gave his friend a small smile. “You do that, mate.”

 

The door to the restaurant burst open again, effectively cutting into their conversation. Gavin looked up to see the handsome man from yesterday come in, the same friend following him inside the shop.

 

“Oh, Christ,” said Michael, sounding like he was just about five-hundred percent done with everything. He turned back to the stove and proceeded to flip over the chunks of burning meat with a bit more force than usual.

 

Barbara rolled her eyes and went back to her spot wrapping up sandwich orders on the far side of the counter. _Here we go again…_

The man stopped in front of the counter, right across from Gavin, who smiled coyly at him.

 

“Gavin, right?” he said, leaning on the counter and flashing Gavin a grin.

 

“Mystery man, right?” Barbara could not even fathom why Gavin thought _that_ was a response that would work in this scenario.

 

The man didn’t seem to mind, though. “Tadd,” he said, his smile growing even more flirtatious as he leaned closer to where Gavin was standing.

 

“Tadd,” Gavin repeated, nodding over at Ray, who was watching the interaction with muted interest. “Another spicy Italian sub, Tadd?”

 

The man nodded, attractive grin still set in place.

 

“Just one?” Gavin confirmed.

 

“One for Brad, too,” said the man, glancing over at his friend, who smirked back at Gavin and Ray. There was, however, something quite _weird_ about the way the man looked, as far as Barbara was concerned. Maybe it was the fact that he and Tadd looked so much _alike_?

 

Gavin fixed the two men with the most flirtatious stare he could muster. Tadd chuckled a little and gave Gavin an appreciative once-over. Beside him, Ray shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 

Michael suddenly appeared out of nowhere and slid a pair of sandwiches across the counter over to Tadd, giving him his own, coy smile for effect. The man stared back at him, taking in Michael’s appearance and bursting into a smirk.

 

“Nice piercings,” Tadd said, his tone sarcastic. Michael just batted his eyelashes at him as a response.

 

“Thanks, Taddly,” he said, before his back on him and resuming his cooking duties. Acting like nothing happened, Tadd fixed his attention on Gavin again, who was practically _squirming_ where he stood.

 

“Well, see you around, Gav,” he said, and Barbara could see Gavin _melt._

The men sauntered out of the shop, sparing one last glance over at Gavin, who turned to Ray and gave him a triumphant grin.

 

“Fucking nailed it,” he said, smiling victoriously at Ray, who rolled his eyes and shook his head at Gavin’s antics.

 

“Wait,” Barbara said, still processing her train of thought about the men earlier. “Tadd and… Brad? Aren’t they, uh—”

 

“Gay?” Michael put in from the stove.

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Ray responded. Barbara waved both of them off.

 

“No. I mean, looking at them, they, well… They kinda look like _brothers,_ don’t you think?”

 

She looked at the men for confirmation. Ray seemed to buy it. He turned to Gavin and flashed Gavin the most lascivious grin he could muster.

 

“Well, Gavino Free,” he said, relishing the expression of dawning realization of the man’s face. “Aren’t you lucky to be caught in an incestuous bro-sandwich?”

 

Gavin just gave him and everyone else an exasperated glare, turned on his heel, and walked away into the back room.

 

Barbara furrowed her brows at his reaction. “What, is that really such a bad thing?”

 

Ray gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “It’s probably time for you to go out and get laid.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Hey there, Griffon.”

 

The sound of the woman’s name almost made Geoff drop the glass he’d been idly drying beside the restaurant’s kitchen sink. The shop owner looked up from his job, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of Griffon coming in the room. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her jeans, but she brought one out to give a small wave to Barbara, who acknowledged her with a smile.

 

“Hi! What can I do for you?” Barbara went over to stand beside Ray near the cash register.

 

“Yeah, I’m here about the set design job you told me about?” Griffon said. There was a muffled sputter from where Geoff was standing. Barbara tried to hide her smirk before addressing Griffon’s question.

 

“Oh, that. Well, did you come to a decision yet?”

 

Griffon nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I actually thought about it and, well. I guess I have some spare time on my hands.”

 

A sharp intake of breath somewhere behind them told Barbara everything she needed to know about Geoff’s feelings on the matter. Trying very hard to keep a wide grin from breaking across her face, Barbara discreetly squeezed Ray’s arm from where it was hidden behind the counter and turned to give Griffon a response.

 

“That’s awesome! I’ll tell Joel about it right away.”

 

Griffon smiled back at her. “Okay. When do you need me to start?”

 

“You can come in tomorrow if you like,” said Barbara, muting her girly squeals by clutching Ray’s arm harder, making him wince slightly where he sat. “They need a lot of props done by the next week. That way we can have an early head start.”

 

Griffon nodded. “Sure, sure. I’ll be there.” She turned around to acknowledge the rest of the restaurant staff, all of whom were watching the exchange with rapt attention.

 

She caught Geoff’s eye and gave him a pleasant smile. “Hey there, Geoff. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

The shop owner visibly struggled for a moment before he was able to formulate a relatively non-idiotic response. “Y-yeah. I’ll see you there.”

 

“Way to go with the ladies,” came Michael’s whispered comment from the stove. Geoff aimed a discreet kick at the man before turning back to Griffon and grinning widely.

 

“Right, I have to go now. Thanks, Barbara.” Griffon gave them one last friendly wave before she strode out of the restaurant, leaving Geoff staring dumbly at her retreating back.

 

“God, Barb,” said Ray, shrugging off Barbara’s hand and turning in his seat to give her a small glare, rubbing his palm soothingly over his arm. “I swear, you almost cut off my circulation for a bit.”

 

“Did you see that?” Barbara said, her voice high-pitched as she bounced on the balls of her feet, looking like she was in the verge of squealing. “I did a _thing_! Who’s the best wingman now, huh? Geoff?” She turned to look at their boss, who now had a trouble expression on his stubbly face.

 

“Did I say anything stupid while she was here?” he asked after a couple of seconds, looking up at everyone for confirmation.

 

Pausing from his chat with Jack near the booths, Gavin rolled his eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

 

“You’re bloody hopeless, you know that?”

 

\--

 

It was almost nine o’clock that night with only a few minutes until closing time when the door to the Beach City Grill burst open, signaling a customer.

 

Gavin was manning the cashier at that time, while Michael, Ray, and Barbara were busy cleaning the rest of the shop. Gavin looked up from where he was busy doing Geoff’s bookkeeping work, a smile taking over his face as he saw a familiar person approach the counter.

 

“Tadd,” he said in acknowledgement, setting aside the ledger and giving the handsome man his full attention.

 

“Gavin,” the man replied in the same tone, returning his grin. Gavin chuckled a little and grabbed the pen that was resting on his ear, clicking it open and flipping his order pad to a new page.

 

“So what can I get for you tonight?”

 

Tadd was silent for a moment, his stare on Gavin appraising. “An order to go.”

 

Gavin nodded and started writing on his pad. “What do you want?”

 

The man gave Gavin a heated look, biting the bottom of his lip attractively before he spoke. “You,” he said simply.

 

A sigh could be heard from somewhere near the tables. Everyone turned to find Barbara leaning on the mop she was currently using to clean the floors, her expression somewhat dreamy.

 

Barbara realized she was being stared at and promptly cleared her throat, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

 

“Sorry, just living vicariously. Ignore me.” She went back to mopping the floors, flustered.

 

Gavin turned back to Tadd, who was waiting for an answer. Everybody in the shop could tell from the way he bit his lip and shifted where he stood that Gavin was already prepping for the kill.

 

He paused for a second, a troubled expression taking over his face before speaking. “Well, look, um… With my last boyfriend, I…we…”

 

Tadd raised an eyebrow at Gavin, his smile growing wider on his face. “Does that work on stupid guys?”

 

Gavin burst into a grin. “Yeah, usually.”

 

Tadd nodded and chuckled, his expression playful. “You ready to go, then?”

 

He turned from the counter and proceeded to leave the shop, Gavin following on his heels like an eager puppy. Barbara, Ray, and Michael watched from the tables as Tadd didn’t even wait for Gavin to get through the door, the heavy contraption almost banging into Gavin’s face as the other man swept through it with a confident saunter into the moonlit street.

 

Michael let out a scoff of derision and slapped his cleaning towel down on one of the tables. “Well, it’s nice how he holds the door for him. What a gentleman. He’s a giver, I can tell.” He resumed wiping the already sparkling surface with renewed force, a muted air of resentment around him as he worked.

 

“Definitely a giver,” Ray and Barbara heard him mutter again as they went back to their own cleaning duties.

 

\--

_“50 Cent can't dance like me! Soulja Boy can't dance like me! Michael Jackson can't dance like me, yo, so, C-c-c-count with me: One, glass of champagne for me. Two, glass of champagne for you. Three, now do the Rolex Sweep. Rolex Sweep. Rolex Sweep…”_

“Jesus Christ,” Barbara muttered darkly as she tossed around in her bed, groping blindly for her phone which was blaring out the ungodly lyrics of Skepta’s “Rolex Sweep, Vandalism Remix”.

 

 _Lindsay fucking Tuggey._ The girl had burst into her apartment late last night with two large bags of Doritos in hand and a boxed set of the first season of Misfits, claiming that Barbara had to be educated in the genius that was British cable television. Barbara had complied, having always trusted Lindsay with her taste in TV shows ever since she introduced her to Firefly, and thus an impromptu season marathon commenced.

 

They finished watching the show at around five in the morning, and Barbara all but crawled into her bed in utter exhaustion. Lindsay, however, apparently found Barbara’s distaste for the show’s selection of club music quite amusing and had downloaded the more offending songs from the soundtrack onto her iPhone while she was asleep.

 

Which brought her back to the unwelcome ear-torture Barbara was experiencing that morning.

 

Barbara finally found the wailing phone and grabbed it from her nightstand, turning over to put the offending object beside her ear. “’Lo?” she mumbled blearily into the receiver.

 

“Barbara. What time are you coming in for work?” It was way too early in the morning to actually be dealing with Professor Burnie Burns. Barbara screwed her eyes shut and brought a hand up to rub her temples, feeling a headache coming in.

 

“Oh, um. Yeah—probably around lunchtime,” she replied, wondering how many hours she’d already slept since they finished watching.

 

There was a bit of silence on Burnie’s end before he spoke. “No can do, Dunkelman. I need you here in an hour. We have a deadline we need to meet.”

 

Barbara groaned inwardly. “But you said the props aren’t due until the end of next week!”

 

Burnie had already hung up, however, leaving Barbara grinding her teeth in fury as she resisted the urge to throw her phone against her bedroom wall.

 

She let herself curl up in her sheets and enjoy another few minutes of warmth and comfort before moving to get up, her lack of sleep almost throwing her off balance as she stood up from the bed.

 

“Why did I fucking work for him again?” she asked herself, rubbing her eyes and setting out of the room to kick Lindsay’s sleeping form out of her living room couch.

 

\--

 

“About time you got here,” said Burnie as Barbara clambered into the auditorium, looking like she’d gone through the seven circles of hell on her way to the arts building. Barbara just grimaced at him, ignoring the sympathetic look Joel sent her way from where he was busy talking with Gus. She moved down the steps to where the unfinished props were set up, put her bag and coat down on a nearby table, and proceeded to start with her work.

 

“I need you to finish that particular piece by tonight,” came Burnie’s voice from behind her as she outlined one of the mechanical parts needed to finish the cyberpunk-themed machine she was working on. “We’re behind schedule and we’re gonna need to start filming as soon as we can.”

 

Surprised, Barbara turned from her project and fixed Burnie with an angry stare. “Why didn’t you tell me ahead of time? I can’t finish this by tonight. It’s too big a piece and I still have classes to attend, not to mention my job at Geoff’s shop!”

 

Burnie crossed his arms and just raised his eyebrows. “That’s not my problem, is it? You know how films are made; we need to make adjustments all the time. You should’ve thought of that before you applied for the job.” He shook his head and stalked back to where Joel and Gus were standing, leaving Barbara seething in fury.

 

“What a jerk,” she muttered angrily to herself. She turned back to the wide slab of plywood she still needed to cut, paint, and nail together before she could start on the other parts of the piece.

 

_Don’t let the man get to you, Barb._

Taking a deep breath and fixing her hair up into a bun, she knelt down again and proceeded to work on the prop.

 

“You look like you need some help,” said a woman’s voice from somewhere above her. Barbara looked up to see Griffon smiling down at her, a hand saw held carefully in one arm. Beside her stood Geoff, who was looking like Christmas and his birthday had both come early.

 

Barbara sighed in relief and grinned at the woman. “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

 

Griffon nodded, kneeling down in front of her and grabbing the design plans to examine them properly. “This is what you’re working on?”

 

Barbara shrugged and gave her an apologetic look. “We need them done by tonight.”

 

Griffon raised a brow at that. “They do know you’re just one person, right?”

 

Barbara shook her head. “Burnie doesn’t think anybody else should be resting when he isn’t.”

 

The other woman let out a small chuckle. “Well, at least he’s working hard.” She set the designs down and focused on the slab of wood Barbara was trying to fashion into a mechanical panel. “Okay, let’s do this. First, you’re outlining this part wrong. Give me your pencil.” She handed Griffon the tool and watched as the older lady worked her magic on the plywood, making a more efficient design for sawing later on. Above h, Geoff looked like he was having the time of his life just seeing Griffon in her natural element.

 

That was the probably the silver lining to Barbara’s otherwise shitty morning. She was glad she could help the man out, seeing as Geoff really had no hope getting Griffon by himself, as evidenced by the way he acted in the shop the last time she visited.

 

She let Griffon lead her through the process of cutting the wood panel into usable bits and pieces for the prop, thankful that she made the good choice of hiring the experienced woman for the set design job. Joel was clearly pleased too, as Griffon’s presence did quite well to placate Burnie, who was blazing through the filming preparations like a bull faced with a shining red sheet. The fact that they had another person to ensure quicker set design work was enough to prevent the man from trying to chew Barbara’s head off. This allowed her to work on the designs more effectively, without the surly director breathing down her neck every few minutes.

 

The relief lasted for another couple of hours, right until Barbara’s phone started ringing in her pocket as she was painting their newly-finished mech panel. She pulled the device out, careful not to drop it into the paint buckets, and put it next to her ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Barbara, you need to get to Statistics class _right now,”_ came Kara’s voice through the phone. “Mr. Jacobs is giving a test.”

 

“What?” Barbara stood up, alarmed at the news. “Why didn’t he tell us that last time?”

 

She could hear Kara sigh from the other end. “He did, Barb. You probably weren’t listening.”

 

That was true enough. Barbara _hated_ math, which was quite unfortunate, seeing as the class was part of her required curriculum and she couldn’t afford to fail another class this semester. She closed her eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing herself to stop panicking. “All right, all right, I’ll try to get there as fast as I can.”

 

“Hurry,” was Kara’s last reminder before she dropped the line. Barbara tucked the phone into her jeans pocket and went to grab her bag. She walked over to Griffon and gave the woman an apologetic smile.

 

“Sorry Grif, but there’s this test I really need to take right now. I’ll come back right after I finish it.”

 

“It’s all right,” said Griffon reassuringly. “I’ll take over these. Go take your test.” She smiled at her and went back to her work. Barbara thanked the heavens for the older woman’s presence and proceeded to leave the auditorium to go to her class.

 

“Wait a minute!” Burnie called from somewhere in the room. She turned from the stairs to find him stalking towards her, his expression testy. “Where do you think you’re going?”

 

“Uh,” Barbara said, eyebrows furrowed. “To class? I need to take this test.”

 

“No, you don’t,” said Burnie, producing the film script from somewhere on his person and shaking it in front of her. “You _need_ to finish this! All right? I need the set designs by tonight!”

 

Barbara resisted the urge the pull at her hair. “C’mon, Burnie. It’s just a test! I’ll only be gone for an hour or two!”

 

“That’s two hours wasted! What if you don’t get these pieces done by tonight, huh? What’ll happen to us then?”

 

Barbara tried _very hard_ not to punch the man in the face. “Oh my god, don’t you understand? I _can’t_ fail this class! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

 

Burnie’s eyes flashed angrily. “Nothing, except for the fact that my employee is _not_ doing her fucking job!”

 

Barbara opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off when Joel decided to intervene. “Okay, stop it, you two.” He turned to Burnie and levelled his friend with a stern glare. “Burnie, c’mon. Let the kid take her test, all right? She’ll be back right after she finishes, won’t you, Barb?” He then turned to Barbara, who was already visibly shaking with anger and exhaustion.

 

“No,” she ground out, fixing Burnie with a glare that could probably cut glass. “I won’t be back. I fucking quit.”

 

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the auditorium, leaving everyone in the room standing in shocked amazement.


	6. Chapter 6

****

“So Barb, Geoff told me you caused a huge scene in their film production set yesterday,” said Michael, walking to stand where Barbara was busy continuing the restaurant’s wall mural. “Mind telling us what that was all about?”

 

Barbara huffed a sigh before deciding she might as well just tell the guy. “Well, Geoff’s friend was being an ass.” She brought her brush up to outline a section of the rocks beside the Santa Cruz shoreline. “I decided I didn’t want to work for him, after all.”

 

Michael raised an eyebrow at the response, and nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, turning back to where he was chopping a huge block of meat into thinner, consumable slices.

 

“So what are you gonna do now?” Ray asked. He, for once, was not sitting in front of his computer. Instead, he was leaning on the store counter and starting an actual conversation with his co-workers.

 

Barbara shrugged. “I’ll figure out another way to get a second job. Besides, they’ve got Griffon to do their set design. Burnie won’t even notice I’m not there. In fact, he’ll probably like that better.”

 

Ray chuckled. “Don’t let Burnie get to you. He’s actually a pretty cool guy once you get to know him.”

 

Barbara turned to give Ray a surprised look. “You know Burnie?”

 

“Yeah, he’s college buds with Geoff. He comes in here a lot.”

 

That sent a frustrated look spreading over Barbara’s face. “Oh god, so I can’t even avoid him _here?”_

 

Ray gave her a sympathetic smile, and shrugged. “Sorry, Barb.”

 

Barbara just shook her head and resumed painting, the thought of seeing Burnie in the shop already threatening to give her a headache. As she was busy weighing the pros and cons of quitting her job in the sandwich shop just so she won’t have to face the infuriating man, the door to the restaurant suddenly burst open, alerting the employees to the presence of a newcomer.

 

“Oh look, it lives.” Michael looked up from the chopping board to send a glare towards the door.

 

“Barely,” said Ray, grinning from where he stood. Gavin, looking like he’d been floating on cloud nine for most of the morning, sauntered into the shop and found a seat beside Ray. He flopped down on the marbled surface of the counter, his expression dreamy.

 

Ray slid a cup of coffee over at Gavin. “Here, drink this. You look like you had a wild night.”

 

Gavin accepted the drink, the look of his face unchanging as he sipped from the mug and set it down on the counter. He ran a hand through his hair and chuckled, a small blush creeping up on his face as he did.

 

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “It was absolutely top.”

 

Michael scoffed from where he was situated. “Looks like Gavino’s in heat. I’d steer clear if I were you.” He went back to mincing the large chunk of pork on his chopping board, his dark expression making Ray inch away for fear of being accidentally maimed.

 

Gavin just rolled his eyes at the man, the dreamy smile vanishing from his face as he acknowledged Michael’s statement. “Just because you don’t get any doesn’t mean everyone else has to be bloody celibate, too.”

 

“Finally found an Eleven, huh?” Ray said, nudging Gavin where he sat.

 

“Mmhm. Twelve.” Gavin replied, his smitten look returning full force. Ray looked impressed. “I did things with Tadd, I’ve never done before.”

 

“Oh really? Like what? Wait for the second date?”

 

The hurt look on Gavin’s face was enough to quiet Michael down. The man went back to his work, clearing his throat and pretending Gavin wasn’t even there. The resultant awkward moment was thankfully interrupted by Geoff, who came into the shop from the back room, carrying his ledger and looking exasperated.

 

“Burnie’s having another hissy fit over at the set, no thanks to you,” he called over to Barbara, who sent him a look that said, “Bite me.” The shop owner sauntered over to the cash register, looking up and acknowledging all his employees with long-suffering look.

 

“So, what did I miss in our ‘staff meeting’?”

 

Ray straightened from his seat and proceeded to give Geoff a full report.

 

“Well, apparently Gavin’s finally found the man of his dreams. Or maybe just one of his better flings. Depends who you’re talking to.”

 

“Really?” Geoff ambled over to give Gavin a high five. “Proud of you, kid!”

 

“Barbara’s saying she won’t be coming back to work for Burnie anymore, even if we threaten to burn her wide collection of ugly-ass overalls—”

 

“Hey! I happen to like wearing these!” Barbara smoothed down her gray romper protectively, giving Ray an offended look.

 

“Michael’s angry other people are getting laid besides him—”

 

“Fuck you, Ray. You’re the virgin here, not me.”

 

Ray pressed on, ignoring Michael’s comeback, “…And, I have reached a decision…on meeting Fuzzy.”

 

Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise. Barbara stopped working on her mural and leaned over to where Ray was sitting. _“And?”_

 

Ray shrugged. “Well, um, we have all the same interests, she laughs at all my jokes—you know how nobody else does that—and, well. Man, we tell each other everything. It’s a no brainer. We _have_ to meet.” He looked up, biting his lip and gauging everyone’s reaction to his announcement.

 

Michael just grinned in response. “Right on.”

 

Barbara furrowed her brows at that. “And what if ‘she’s’ a man?”

 

Ray shrugged again. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

 

Barbara grinned at that. “Ooh, if that happens, can I watch?”

 

“What if she’s fourteen?” Gavin interjected, looking terse.

 

“Ooh, if that happens, can I videotape?” Michael said, a lascivious grin plastered on his face. Barbara threw her face towel at him, chuckling.

 

Ray appeared to have already thought about it. “She’s driving herself to the meeting point, so she’s gotta be at least sixteen, right? And that’s not… that much younger.”

 

“Convicted felon?” Geoff put in from beside the still worried-looking Gavin.

 

“She’s out now, so it couldn’t have been that bad,” said Ray, grinning.

 

“Paralyzed?” Jack asked from his booth.

 

“If she can deal with that, I sure can.”

 

“Ugly as a rhino’s arse?” Gavin said, a challenging look on his face.

 

Ray sighed impatiently. “Looks are really the least of my worries, Gav. She’s a great woman.”

 

“What if she’s got, like, lots of tattoos on her arms and more artificial holes in her head than real ones?” That one came from Michael.

 

Ray turned to give Michael a smile. “I could never be that lucky, bro.”

 

Michael grinned back at him, looking flattered.

 

“Okay, so… when and where?” Barbara asked, feeling that there wasn’t really much else she could do but support the guy.

 

“Halfway. Next Saturday, at a club in Morro Bay. She’ll be the one with the red rose on her table.” Ray hid a smile at that. He _loved_ roses, and it was incredibly adorable that Fuzzy was taking that into account.

 

“Aww, that’s so romantic,” Barbara gushed, setting her chin on her hand as she leaned against the store counter.

 

“Right. Um, Geoff?” Ray looked tentatively over to their boss. “Can I, uh, borrow the Cosmobile? I figured that way I could just camp out.”

 

“No problem, kiddo,” said Geoff, walking over to give Ray a supportive pat on the back. “Anything for true love.”

 

“Well,” said Gavin, looking resigned. “I’m going with.”

 

“Really?” Ray asked, surprised.

 

“I can’t let you go alone,” said Gav. “What if she’s, like, a psycho axe murderer or something?”

 

“Awesome, me too.” Barbara put in before Ray could argue back. He turned to give her a grateful smile.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

Barbara nodded. “You’re gonna need a girl there with you, trust me.”

 

Everyone then turned to Michael, who looked like he was thinking something out in his head as counted with his fingers and mouthed silently along.

 

“What about you, Mike?” Barbara asked.

 

Michael stopped muttering and sighed. He shook his head. “No can do, man. Got something I need to do next weekend.” He looked regretful. Barbara walked over to rub his arm soothingly.

 

“That’s fine, Michael. We’ll just tell you about it when we get back.”

 

Michael nodded. “You do that.” He then looked over at Ray. “Don’t fail me, man. All right?”

 

Ray smiled over at him, and scratched at the back of his head, chuckling a bit. He was obviously excited, and was trying very hard to hide it.

 

“Well, uh, let’s all just hope for the best, shall we?”

 

\--

 

The Santa Cruz Anime Expo was in full swing that Sunday, and every geek within a hundred-mile radius was decked out in full cosplayer regalia and flocking the local trade center like bees to a honey pot. It was a colorful event, and the anime merchandise was flying off the booths like there was no tomorrow, but that wasn’t the reason why Joel and Gus dragged Burnie over to the convention in the middle of the sunny day.

 

“Why the fuck am I here, again?” Burnie asked as he squinted against the daylight, his expression telling anyone within ten feet that he’d rather be holed up in his room typing out the latest edits to his script than deal with all this cosplaying nonsense.

 

Joel gave the man a companionable pat on the back and rubbed his shoulders for effect. “C’mon, Burnie! You know how anime conventions are full of really hot cosplayer chicks, many of whom are _desperate_ to get laid.” He turned to give the man a lascivious grin. “About time we scored them college girls, huh, bro?”

 

Burnie shook his head and gave the taller man a disgusted look. “You’re despicable.”

 

“I wonder if I can go get that Ayanami Rei figure,” said Gus thoughtfully as he looked over to one of the merchandise booths.

 

Joel sighed hopelessly at the bespectacled man and turned back to Burnie. “Burnie, come on. It’s been a year since you, well, broke ties with Jordan—”

 

“Don’t fucking start.”

 

“—and you _need_ to get yourself out there!” Joel grabbed his friend’s face and looked him in the eye. “Burnie, you _have_ to get laid. At least so you can that ten-foot stick out of your ass.”

 

Burnie glared and shook his hands away. “I _don’t_ have a stick in my ass, fuck you.”

 

Joel scoffed. “You sent that set design chick packing the other day, Burns. I know you’re usually not the nicest guy in the planet, but you’re never as cruel as you were with Barb. Something’s up and you know it.”

 

Burnie rolled his eyes at that. “She was incompetent, _Heyman._ I fired her because she won’t do her fucking job properly.”

 

Joel snorted in response. “Yeah, right. She walked out on you, remember? She got sick of your Third Reich methods and quit. Way to go with the ladies, Burnie.”

 

“For the last time, I don’t _need_ to get laid,” said Burnie exasperatedly. “I’m too busy with the film production work, anyway.”

 

“Oh, psh. Screw that. It’s a fucking low-budget college film and we all know it. You don’t have to act like it’s gonna go on fucking Tribeca or whatever, come on.” He grabbed Burnie by the shoulders, ignoring the man’s offended sputter, and steered him towards the crowd of people flocking near a wide stage. Before they even managed to get within fifty feet of the scantily clad cosplayers though, Joel stopped and stared at something at the very far side of the convention center.

 

“What—what’s wrong?” Burnie asked, turning to see what the fuss was all about.

 

“Isn’t that…?” Joel squinted through the distance, as if trying to identify someone familiar in the crowd. His eyes then widened and he gave an appreciative whistle.

 

“Well, look who’s here, apparently,” said the man, looking back at Burnie to give him an impish grin. “It’s your favorite girl in the world, Burns.”

 

“What? Who?” Burnie looked over to where Joel was staring at, a surprised expression taking over his face when he saw Barbara Dunkelman, very fetchingly dressed in a cute Japanese schoolgirl outfit, wearing an auburn-haired wig and carrying a large prop hammer. She was talking to a blue-haired chick in a white space captain costume.

 

“Why the hell is she here?” Burnie demanded as he took in the sight. Joel watched shrewdly as the man swallowed while doing so, his eyes never leaving the girl as she continued laughing along with what her friend was currently saying.

 

“Um, she’s one of those artsy anime geeks, of course she’s gonna be here,” said Joel, starting to wonder if there’s something he should be taking into account in this scenario. Burnie still haven’t finished staring over at Barbara. In fact, he seemed to following her every move with his eyes.

 

 _Well, what the fuck do we have here?_ Joel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and hit the man upside the head. Honestly, why was Burnie still resorting to third grade tactics to get the girl?

 

Clearly, there was something Joel needed to do in order to help his friend out in this situation, because, well, Burnie was doing nothing except push the girl away with his faux Han Solo act. That’s what bros do for each other, right?

 

“Right, why don’t we go over and say hi?” He grabbed his friend by the shoulders again and steered him towards Barbara and her companion, both of whom were still oblivious to their presence. Ignoring Burnie’s protests, he pushed the man to where the girls were standing, and stopped right in front of them, giving the surprised college girls a full, wide grin in greeting.

 

“Hi there, Barb,” he said, watching as Barbara’s eyes widened when she saw them. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”

 

“Well, um,” Barbara said, looking like she was on the verge of scuttling away into the crowd, “I didn’t think you’d be here, too. Go figure.” She chuckled weakly at that, and her friend looked worriedly over at her.

 

“So, um, who’s your friend?” Joel asked, gesturing over at the blue-haired chick.

 

“Oh, this is Lindsay,” she said, watching as Joel reached over to shake hands with her. Lindsay, for her part, was polite and did not give any sign of knowing what had transpired in the auditorium a few days ago. “Lindsay, this is Joel and, um, Professor Burns. From the school’s film department.”

 

“Yeah, I see them around,” said Lindsay, smiling at the men. “So, what brings you here to the convention? We really didn’t think college professors would go to events like this.”

 

“Believe me, I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Burnie muttered. Joel squeezed him by the shoulders, _hard_ , before turning to beam at the girls.

 

“We’re just, you know, scoping out the scene,” he said, wishing that Burnie would, for once, just help himself out and _not_ dig himself further into a pit of self-denial.

 

“You’re here to pick up chicks, you mean.” Barbara, of course, wasn’t taking any of their shit. Joel should have figured. Oh well. He decided to resort to another, much bolder tactic.

 

“Well, see,” he said, patting Burnie on the back and pushing him forward a couple more inches into the girls’ space. “Burnie here _loves_ anime. He’s also, well, currently single—”

 

“No wonder,” Barbara coughed into her hand, causing Burnie to glare at her.

 

“—and I decided to be a good friend and bring him over to meet other women who share the same interests.” He finished by giving them a full-fledged, charming grin. “Like you guys.”

 

Lindsay’s eyebrows raised so high above her head they disappeared into the fringes of her hair. She coughed and turned to give Barbara a look. “Well, um, yeah, I guess that’s fine. Don’t you, Barb?”

 

Barbara l crossed her arms and nodded over at Burnie, her expression disbelieving. “You _like_ anime?”

 

“I—um—”

 

“ _Well,_ that’s our cue!” Joel clapped his hands together and gestured at Lindsay to follow him over to one of the booths near where they stood. “I’ll let the two of you catch up, while me and Lindsay will go and check out some of the cool stuff over there. _Come on.”_ He and Lindsay walked away from them, leaving Barbara and Burnie facing each other awkwardly in the middle of the large courtyard.

 

Barbara was the first to speak. “So, uh—”

 

“I like your hammer,” said Burnie suddenly, and promptly looked like he wanted to punch himself in the face. “I mean—”

 

“Um, thanks,” Barbara nodded, looking surprised at the sudden compliment. “It’s awesome, if a bit on the heavy side. So…” She could see Burnie wasn’t about to speak up again. “Are you _really_ here to pick up girls?”

 

Burnie heaved a long-suffering sigh. “No. Joel dragged me here.’

 

Barbara nodded. “Fair enough,” she said, looking like she expected that answer. “I didn’t think you’d be the type of guy who likes hanging out with anime freaks.”

 

“Look,” said Burnie, a frown taking over his face as he spoke. “I’m—I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to act the way I did. I was just—”

 

“Being an ass?” Barbara put in, eyebrows raised. “Suffering from PMS?”

 

“—having a bad day.’ Burnie finished, resisting the urge to glare at Barbara, again. He visibly shifted where he stood, and made the official decision to change tactics. “Look, Barbara, I’m usually not as much of a jerk as I was that day.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “This film is just really stressing me out. You understand that, don’t you?”

 

“I do,” said Barbara, nodding, but the look on her face didn’t change. “But that doesn’t excuse you for being a prick.”

 

“I know,” said Burnie, and gave Barbara an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, alright? I’ll try to be better next time.” He buried his hands in his pockets and bit his lip, wondering why it suddenly mattered that the girl forgave him for his actions. Barbara, for her part, looked like she was confused with Burnie’s sudden change of heart, but seemed to give him the benefit of the doubt.

 

“Okay, sure, I believe you,” she said, giving him a small grin, but the expression on her face changed as she suddenly thought of something. “The next time? What do you mean?”

 

Burnie scratched the back of his head again, looking sheepish. “Well, uh…”

 

Barbara crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a waiting look. Burnie cleared his throat and spoke.

 

“Griffon’s, well, actually having a hard time doing all the work by herself,” he said, wondering if all this groveling will be worth it in the end. “I think she’s subtly threatening to quit if I don’t hire you back.” He looked up to see Barbara raising her eyebrows at that, seeming to consider Burnie’s statement in her head for a moment.

 

“You _want_ me back?” She said, her expression disbelieving.

 

Burnie coughed. “ _We_ need you back,” he affirmed, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “Griffon can’t work alone on all those set designs, you know.”

 

Barbara seemed to think about it. “Well,” she said finally, uncrossing her arms and leaning her hammer on the grassy ground. “I’ll go back if you want.”

 

Burnie smiled at that. “Excellent,” he said. “You can start on—”

 

“I’ll come work for you,” Barbara interjected, “on one condition.”

 

That made Burnie furrow his brows. What was the girl getting at? “What’s that?”

 

“You’ll never be an ass to me again—” said Barbara, a steely glint in her eyes as she spoke.

 

“Fair enough,” said Burnie.

 

“— _and_ you’re gonna tell me why you’ve been acting like a huge jerk.” She finished, putting her hands and her hips and levelling him with a challenging look.

 

“Those are _two_ conditions,” Burnie pointed out.

 

“Take it or leave it,” Barbara retorted, her expression unmoving.

 

Burnie thought about it, and sighed, resigning himself to the situation. “Fine, Dunkelman,” he said, putting a hand up to run it through his hair. “You got yourself a deal.”

 

“Perfect,” said Barbara, putting a hand out to shake on it. Burnie accepted the gesture, taking in the satisfied look on the girl’s face with more than a little apprehension.

 

“Should I be worried about this?” He asked, feeling like he should.

 

Barbara shrugged. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

 

Burnie was already wondering if he really should have rehired Barbara, when Joel and Lindsay came back from the booths, both carrying bags of merchandise with them.

 

“So,” said the taller man, an expectant look on his face as they ambled over. “What did we miss?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh god, yeah—just like that—”

 

“You like this, huh?” Gavin said, a smirk breaking across his flushed face as he rode Tadd’s cock into oblivion. The man was currently spread-eagled on the bed, watching with heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes as Gavin bounced on top of him, his brown locks falling over his face in a sexy mess.

 

Tadd put a hand out to grasp Gavin’s dick, his thumb skating over the slippery crown and making Gavin throw his head back in ecstasy.

 

“I like seeing you like this,” said Tadd breathlessly as he watched Gavin writhe wantonly above him, and thrust his hips so that the head of his cock jabbed against the man’s prostate.

 

“Ah, _yes,”_ Gavin moaned and reached out to help Tadd work on his cock, the combined feeling of the man’s erection crashing against his prostate and their hands tugging on his own, swollen girth sending him over the edge. Gavin let out a high-pitched, whining sound as everything else faded into black and all he could feel was pure, unadulterated pleasure. He was suddenly coming in spurts, drenching Tadd’s fingers with his release.

 

Feeling Gavin clench tightly around his dick as he rode out his high, Tadd found himself going over the edge as well. He grabbed Gavin’s hips and held the man tight against him as he came.

 

“Baby, you are something,” said Tadd, a satisfied look on his face as he let Gavin roll away from him and plop down on the bed in utter exhaustion.

 

“Something good, I hope,” Gavin replied, the red flush on his face and chest still not disappearing as he smiled sleepily on the soft pillows.

 

Tadd chuckled. “Yeah, something good.” He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again and turning his head to look at Gavin.

 

“Hey, I got us tickets for the Catalyst on Saturday,” he said. Gavin thought about it for a moment breaking into a frown.

           

“Oh, bugger. I’m going out of town.”

 

Tadd looked surprised. “Where are you going?”

 

“Morro Bay, but just for Saturday night.”

 

The man looked annoyed. “Can’t you get out of it?”

 

“No,” said Gavin quickly in response. “I’m going with Ray and Barbara.”

 

“Who?”

 

“My friends from the shop?” Gavin heaved himself up from the bed. “Ray’s mystery bird, remember?”

 

“Yeah, right,” said Tadd, sounding dismissive. “Look, can’t you just tell them you got a better offer?”

 

Gavin raised an eyebrow as pulled his boxers on. “But I _didn’t._ ”

 

An offended look took over Tadd’s face. “Well, fuck you very much.”

 

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m leaving Ray out there with a stranger,” said Gavin, his tone not entertaining any more arguments on the matter. “Next time, just ask first.”

 

“Whatever,” Tadd said sulkily from the bed. “So we have to find someone else to use the third ticket.”

 

Gavin scoffed at that. _“We?”_ he said as he tugged the hem of his shirt down over his stomach. “As in Brad?”

 

“Yeah, as in Brad.”

 

Gavin shook his head, feeling annoyed. “Right, good. Is your brother coming on all of our dates?”

 

“What is the fucking big deal?” Tadd said exasperatedly. “You have your friends, I have mine.”

 

“True, but I don’t bring mine everywhere I go.”

 

“You’re not one of those possessive guys, are you?” Tadd said, his voice sounding testy. “The kind that won’t let have a life away from him?”

 

Gavin scoffed indignantly. “No.”

 

“Good,” said Tadd, an unpleasant look taking over his face. “Because I’m not putting up with that shit.”

 

Gavin just sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to start a fight with Tadd. “Just…forget I said anything, all right? I don’t know why I’m being weird.”

 

Tadd seemed to let it go. He sat up from the bed and reached over to grab Gavin’s hand. “Hey, call in sick. Spend the day with me.”

 

Gavin chuckled. “A bloke’s gotta work. Not everyone’s as loaded as you are.”

 

“We could have a little fun.” Tadd said, waggling his eyebrows in invitation.

 

Gavin stood up and flashed the man a heated stare. “Yeah. _Tonight.”_ He then grabbed his jacket and sauntered out of the room, leaving Tadd staring at his back thoughtfully.

 

\--

 

“You sure you’re gonna be okay here, Barb?” Joel asked as he stopped next to the auditorium’s exit, a concerned expression on his face.

 

Barbara, who was still busy painting the mechanical arm she and Griffon had finished constructing just a couple of hours ago, looked up and nodded. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt and grinned over at the older man. “I’m gonna be fine. You go on and get some rest.”

 

“ _You’re_ the one who needs rest,” said Joel, but he seemed to decide he should just let Barbara be. He gave Barbara a wave before walking out of the large hall.

 

Barbara glanced at her watch once Joel was gone. Eleven o’clock pm. She heaved a sigh and went back to work, her eyelids threatening to droop shut as she realized she was actually quite exhausted.

 

It wasn’t the first time she’d stayed over at school late, but between midterms and her employment in Geoff’s sandwich shop, Barbara had started to get the feeling her youthful energy definitely had its limits.

 

 _Just another hour and you can call it a night,_ she thought to herself, hoping the mech arm wouldn’t turn out bad despite her terrible exhaustion. Burnie would definitely have her head if it did.

 

 “You can do it, Barb,” she whispered, cheering herself on as she went back to painting the huge prop. She worked for another twenty minutes, feeling herself become sleepier as time passed, before the sound of something hitting against a hard surface, followed by a muttered “ _fuck!”_ pulled her out of her stupor.

 

She looked around, searching for the source of the interruption. “Hello? Is anybody there?”

 

“Shit!” She heard another whisper, accompanied by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. It was coming from backstage.

 

Barbara stood up and walked over to the room. Upon entering, she discovered Burnie standing near the back exit with one hand on the door and a copy of the film script tucked under his arm, a deer-in-headlights expression plastered all over his face.

 

Barbara put one hand on her hip and regarded the sight with a confused frown. “Burnie. What are you doing?”

 

“Um,” said the man, looking like he was debating whether to run for it or preserve his dignity and stay. “I’m, uh, working on my—”

 

“Working on your script, yeah, looks like it,” Barbara interjected, raising her eyebrows at his answer. “Doesn’t explain why you seem hell bent on leaving, though. Are you avoiding me?”

 

Burnie scoffed indignantly. “No.”

 

“Okay,” said Barbara, walking over to grab a chair and plopping herself down on it. “So does that mean we can finally have _that_ chat?”

 

Burnie didn’t let go of the doorknob. “Well, um—”

 

“ _Burnie,”_ Barbara said testily. “You _promised_ to tell me why you were being such a jerk. You never made good on that promise.”

 

The man looked uncomfortable with being called out on his act. He bit his lip and struggled for an explanation. Upon finding none, he sighed and spoke.

 

“Look, Barbara, why don’t we just let that go, huh? I really don’t think—”

 

“I can quit again,” said Barbara, crossing her arms over her chest and levelling him with a threatening stare.

 

Burnie let out another long-suffering sigh before finally giving in. “Fucking _fine._ ” He took a few steps away from the door, pulled out a chair for himself and, with an expression of resignation on his face, proceeded to speak.

 

“It’s been a year since I got divorced,” he said simply. Barbara’s eyes widened and she looked up at him, surprised.

 

“I—I had no idea—”

 

Burnie chuckled wryly at that. “You had no way of knowing.”

 

“Yes, but—” Barbara struggled to justify her apologetic fit. “I—I thought you were just this huge jerk who picked on his students a lot. That was cruel of me. I didn’t even stop to think about _why_ you were being like that.”

 

“Barbara,” Burnie said, looking uncomfortable at her ranting. “ _I_ should be the one who’s sorry. All right? I’m not a nice guy, but I’m also not a grade-A prick. Well, most of the time, that is. It just so happens that I was in a bad fix when you came along.”

 

“When you almost ran me over, you mean,” Barbara corrected.

 

“To be fair, you _did_ cross the street on a green light,” said Burnie.

 

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?” Barbara asked, but she didn’t feel as cross about it as she should be. Burnie just shook his head and let out a small laugh.

 

“So yeah, that’s why I was so hard on you. I needed someone to vent all my frustrations on, and you were an easy target. I’m sorry for that.” He looked up, a sheepish look on his face, as if expecting Barbara to start laughing at him or maybe just leave in disgust.

 

Barbara gave him a small smile. “Apology accepted,” she said. “So long as you don’t use me as your stress ball again the next time you get sad over something.”

 

“I would’ve probably found someone else to torture by then,” said Burnie, grinning slightly.

 

“God help that poor soul,” said Barbara. Burnie just chuckled in response.

 

There was a long moment of awkward silence that followed. Both people looked like they wanted to say something, but were too hesitant to do so. After several, excruciating seconds, Burnie finally gave up and spoke.

 

“Well, I should—”

 

“Do you still miss her?” Barbara said at the same time, cutting into his sentence and making the man look up in surprise.

 

“Oh, uh…” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I was just—”

 

“Yeah, um.” Burnie’s face was suddenly guarded. He heaved himself up from the chair, tucking his script back into the crook of his arm. “I—I really don’t think I want to talk about that.”

 

Barbara was mortified. She sat up from the chair and smoothed down her shirt, avoiding Burnie’s eyes as she tried to save face. “I’m really sorry, Professor Burns. I—I didn’t mean to—”

 

The look on Burnie’s face changed at the sight of Barbara’s internal turmoil. “Look, Barb, I—”

 

“God, I’m such an ass,” said Barbara, more to herself than to the man, and ran a hand over her hair, looking ashamed. “I should…I should probably just leave.”

 

Burnie looked like he wanted to say something. “Barbara, you don’t have to—”

 

“I really shouldn’t have pried,” said Barbara, still not meeting his eyes as she spoke. “I’ll just—go, okay?”

 

And with that, she fled the room, leaving Burnie standing there feeling frustrated and more than a little confused.

 

\--

 

“All right, so this is what we have to do,” said Barbara as she, Ray, and Gavin walked towards the nearest bar in Morro Bay, which was where Ray and Fuzzy22 were supposed to meet that night. “We have to find a table in the back or in the corner so we can scope him or her out in advance.”

 

“And, if she’s actually an eighty year-old man looking for a young bloke to fulfill his pseudo-pedo fantasies, we _bolt,”_ said Gavin, making Ray roll his head in exasperation.

 

“Maybe we should send Gavin past her to see if she checks him out!” Barbara suggested.

 

“If she doesn’t check Gavin out, she’s either a lesbian, or dead.” Ray just shook his head and walked into the bar, the expression on his face a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

 

There were a lot of people in the place that night, but it wasn’t so crowded that they couldn’t find a table for themselves near one of the windows. Everyone took a seat, and Ray closed his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath, obviously psyching himself up for whatever was about to happen.

 

“Okay, guys. Remember: _red rose.”_

Barbara and Gavin nodded and started to look around the bar for any sign of Fuzzy22 and the flower. Gavin’s eyes furrowed as he spotted an elderly woman on the far side of the room sitting by herself, the majority of her table obscured by a young waitress taking her order.

 

“C’mon, baby, move that ass,” Gavin muttered, waiting for the waitress to leave and reveal the contents of the woman’s table.

 

Ray and Barbara frowned worriedly as they looked over to where Gavin was staring. After a couple of seconds, the waitress finally walked away, revealing a table that was mostly empty except for a stand-up menu in the middle of its wooden surface.

 

Back in their spot, Ray heaved a relieved sigh.

 

Barbara started looking around again, and saw a brown-haired woman with her back to them sitting on one of the tables in the middle of the room. She appeared to be looking for someone, too, the expression on her face expectant.

 

She pointed this out to the guys. “Maybe that’s her.”

 

Gavin raised one brow as he assessed the woman’s appearance. “So-so.”

 

Ray sighed again. “I told you, I don’t give a shit what she looks like.”

 

They watched as the woman looked down at her watch and let out a small frown. “You think that’s her?” Ray asked his friends.

 

“You want me to walk by the table and check?” Barbara offered.

 

“No, no. Wait.” Gavin caught their attention and gestured over to the woman again, whose face was now lighting up as she saw a man approach her where she sat. She got up to give the newcomer a kiss on the cheek, and sat back down on the table with him.

 

“Okay, moving on,” said Barbara. They went through the bar’s populace yet again. This time, a lonely looking man sitting in one of the booths caught Barbara’s eye. A part of his table was obscured by another patron, but it didn’t look like he had company. Well, she was going to have to wait and see.

 

She squinted to get a better look at the man, and grinned slightly as Ray caught her checking him out.

 

“You never know,” she said, giving her friend an apologetic look. Ray joined her in waiting for their view of the man to clear up, and after a few seconds the person blocking his table moved on to another place in the bar.

 

This showed another man putting his arm around the guy, an intimate smile forming on his face as he leaned to whisper in his ear, making his companion laugh.

 

“Ho-kay,” Ray breathed out, the threat of an identity crisis thankfully averted. Gavin rolled his eyes at that.

 

“Really, mate,” he started to say. “You don’t know what you’re missing by—”

 

“Ssh!” Barbara suddenly put an arm out to quiet Gavin. “Look over there.”

 

She discreetly pointed to the bar’s counter, and both men turned to look. On the far side of it sat a blonde-haired woman, an expectant look on her face as she kept glancing to the door. The counter space in front of her was hidden by another person’s back, but it was clear that she was waiting for someone to arrive.

 

“Oh my god, Ray,” Barbara whispered. The woman was _pretty._ Not in the supermodel, idealized sense of the word. She was _real person_ pretty. She had long, blonde locks that cascaded down her shoulders, thick eyelashes that framed her eyes perfectly, and a septum piercing decorating her well-defined nose. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress that accentuated her curves, and, _well,_ everyone with eyes could see that she had a pretty nice rack. Gavin whistled where he sat.

 

“If that’s her, Ray, I’ll—”

 

He cut himself off when the person obscuring the counter suddenly moved away and they could finally see the rest of the counter. Sure enough, there was a single, long-stemmed red rose placed on the shiny, marbled surface in front of the woman.

 

Barbara’s eyes widened at the confirmation. “That settles it. I’ve _got_ to get my internet connection fixed.”

 

“Blimey, you really struck gold on this one, didn’t you, mate?” Gavin said as he stared over at the woman, an impressed look taking over his features. Barbara giggled at that.

 

Ray, however, was extremely quiet on his own side of the table, not letting out so much as a gasp since they spotted the presence of the rose on the bar’s counter. Barbara and Gavin gave a start as Ray suddenly shot up from his seat.

 

“Ray, what—”

 

Barbara’s words were cut off as Ray turned and fled the bar, storming out of the door and into the cold, windy night.

 

Both people were left shocked at his sudden escape. Barbara turned to Gavin, who was staring back at her, a confused look on his face.

 

“What the bloody hell just happened?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A large part of this chapter has been contributed by Stephanie, who actually did some rewrites to shield you from my horrible writing.

The night breeze blew hard on the shores of Morro Bay, causing the bonfire set up just several feet away from the Cosmobile to flicker and dance under the moonlight. Ray sat in front of it, gazing silently into the flames, his expression unreadable.

 

“C’mon, Ray, talk to us.” Barbara pleaded. “What happened? You’re just gonna leave Fuzzy there waiting with no explanation?” Ray just stared ahead into the fire, not appearing to have heard her.

 

Gavin sat down next to him, placing a hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Look, mate, do you want one of us to—to go back up there and explain to Fuzzy that you got, I dunno, cold feet or something?”

 

“No,” Ray finally said, his first word since he ran out of the bar that night. His voice sounded hoarse and croaky, and his eyes were a bit wet. They waited for him to continue, but it appeared like Ray didn’t want to say anything more.

 

“ _No?_ Ray—you _can’t_ just leave her there without any explanation,” Barbara said disbelievingly. “What’s she gonna think if no Brownman shows up, huh? She came a _long_ way to meet you, and you’re just gonna stand her up cold?”

 

Ray ground his jaw and gripped the sides of his pant legs, trying to keep his hands from shaking visibly. “Look, she’d…if she was waiting for Brownman, and I just showed up with my ugly mug, she’d just be let down.” He let go of his jeans and crossed his arms over his chest, now clutching at his arms. “A girl like that… she—she wouldn’t be waiting for Ray Narvaez Jr.”

 

Gavin stared at Ray incredulously. “Is _that_ what this is all about? Your mystery girl is bloody _banging,_ and you’re upset? No one else in the whole damn world has ever been so lucky when it comes to online dating as this! Men everywhere would be lining up to have a chance with her, and she’s right there waiting for you to show up, and you’ve just left because you think she’s _too fit_?”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin,” Ray said coldly.

 

Barbara and Gavin gaped, shocked into silence. Ray had never snapped at _anyone_ before in living memory.

 

Gavin recovered first. “Ray, what the fuck?”

 

“What the fuck would you know?!” Ray snarled, and suddenly he was standing, looking down at Gavin with his hands balled into fists, his body tensed with anger. “Pretty boy Gavin, he wins prom king and everyone wants to sleep with him, fucking _everyone_! Girls, guys, doesn’t fucking matter! Everyone’s lining up at the Beach City Grill for their chance, so who the fuck wants to look at the skinny little computer nerd sitting in the corner spending his worthless life online? No one, that fucking who!”

 

“Ray!” Barbara shouted, horrified. During Ray’s tirade, Gavin had stood up, his teeth clenched and an angry glint in his eye. She grabbed Ray’s arm, hoping to try and calm him down before the situation degenerated into a full on fist fight. Ray wrenched himself away from her, but turned and looked at her, the expression on his face anguished.

 

“He doesn’t fucking get it, Barb!” Ray yelled back at her, pointing at Gavin. “He doesn’t fucking know what it’s like to for every girl you meet’s eyes to just slide over you because you’re just as unimpressive as the fucking wall you’re standing next to! Or to ask a girl you like out and have them laugh in your fucking face because they can’t believe a loser like you had the nerve to think that you had a chance with them! He doesn’t fucking _know_!”

 

Ray’s voice broke on the last word. He quickly closed his mouth, but the damage was done; even behind the glasses that glinted white in the firelight, Barbara and Gavin could see the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. Ray quickly brushed at his face to try and get rid of them, and for several seconds, the only sounds to be heard were his glasses clattering as he hit them to wipe at his eyes and the fire crackling beside their camp.

 

“So no,” Ray said, finally breaking the silence. His voice still cracked, so he cleared his throat before he continued. “I’m not gonna go see Fuzzy. Because she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my whole goddamn life, and she’s waiting for BrownMan. And BrownMan is cool, and BrownMan is funny, and Ray is a poor fucking substitute, and if Ray is what shows up, she’s gonna be so unbelievably disappointed, she won’t know what to do with herself. And I can’t fucking handle that.”

 

The three of them stood there without moving. Ray was looking down, trying very hard to hide his sniffling. Barbara looked like she wanted to run to the man and pull him into a hug, while Gavin looked like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, his previous anger completely forgotten.

 

Eventually, Barbara took a step towards Ray, a hand raised entreatingly. But at the sound of her foot crunching into the sand, Ray turned and walked away without looking at the other two. He made a beeline straight for the Cosmobile, climbed in, and shut the door to the van with an echoing _slam._

 

\--

 

It was early morning the next day when the Cosmobile drove into the lot beside the back entrance of the sandwich shop, making Geoff look up from where he was busy throwing a couple of trash bags into the dumpster. He waited expectantly for the passengers to come out, eager for news of Ray’s meet-up with Fuzzy. It was several seconds before one of the front seat windows rolled down and Barbara’s head appeared, the expression on her face morose.

 

Geoff gave her a questioning look. Barbara just shook her head and sighed.

 

The look on Geoff’s face turned into one of disappointment. A few moments later, the door to the Cosmobile opened, and Ray climbed out, looking like he just wanted to crawl into a hole for the next couple of years. He looked up to give his boss a look of utter defeat, and the man caved, reaching out an arm to bring Ray into a comforting hug.

 

He felt Ray sniffle into his shoulder a few times before he pulled away and gave Geoff a grateful look. He seemed a bit embarrassed at the fact that he actually ran to the older man like a little boy. “I—um—”

 

“I’m really sorry, son,” said Geoff, giving his employee a pat on the back. “Do you want to take today off?”

 

Ray shook his head. “No. I should work. I just…I just need to take my mind off this.”

 

Geoff bit his lip and nodded. “If you say so. Come on, let’s go inside. You look like you guys need a truckload of caffeine.”

 

\--

 

A few hours later, several minutes before the sandwich shop was due to open for the day, the door to the restaurant suddenly burst open. Michael walked in, leaving the door to bang shut behind him. He was looking excited for news about Ray’s weekend rendezvous.

 

Barbara’s eyes widened at the sight. _Uh-oh._

“All right!” Michael announced, arms spread out around him, an expectant expression on his face. “I was sitting by the phone, waiting, wondering—I demand a full report, I want _all_ the details! _What happened?”_

 

Barbara brought a hand to her head at Michael’s enthusiasm, and Gavin dropped a set of dishes on the counter to walk over to where Michael was standing, grabbing his arm and dragging him over near the empty tables.

 

“Wha—”

 

“Okay, look,” Gavin said, biting his lip. “There’s a reason why we didn’t call you.” He leaned over to Michael’s ear and relayed everything that happened in a low whisper. Barbara left the cutleries she was busy keeping on one side of the kitchen and went over to rub Ray’s arm comfortingly as the man looked very uncomfortable where he was sitting.

 

“You’re _shitting_ me.” Michael suddenly said. Gavin, already knowing by the expression on the man’s face what he was about to do, gave Michael a pleading stare. Unrelenting, he just pulled away from Gavin and walked over to Ray. “Ray. Please tell me you didn’t fucking leave Fuzzy just sitting down there wondering?”

 

Ray looked away, not wanting to respond. Michael gaped at him, an angry expression taking over his face.

 

“Goddamn it, Ray!”

 

“I don’t expect you to understand, okay?” Ray said quietly, too tired to get into a fight. Michael just shook his head.

 

“No, I—I understand. I understand you wouldn’t talk to her because you were fucking terrified she was gonna judge you on the basis of your looks.”

 

“Mike—”

 

“Yet you’re _completely_ comfortable doing the exact same thing to her!”

 

An awkward silence followed that. Ray bit his lip, looking ashamed, and Gavin just stared at Michael, surprised.

 

“You’re unbelievable!” Michael turned away and walked over to the door. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He pushed the door open and left the shop, letting it slam shut with a resounding _bang!_ Gavin gave Barbara and Ray a shocked stare before taking a breath and moving to follow Michael out of the shop and into the sunny street.

 

“Hey!”

 

Michael ignored him and continued walking into the paved plaza a block away from the shop. Gavin pressed on. “Hey!” He caught up to the man and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him backwards to a stop. “Bloody _hell,_ Michael? What the fuck was _that_?”

“Well, I’m sorry, but Ray was being a fucking moron!” Michael said, turning to give Gavin a heated glare. “Who the fuck does that to a girl?”

 

“Oh, c’mon! That was really hard on Ray, too!”

 

Michael’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Really? Really, Gav? Because I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a picnic for Fuzzy either.” He walked away from Gavin again.

 

Gavin ran a hand through his hair, confused, before moving to catch up with the angry man. “Why on earth are you suddenly Fuzzy’s best mate?”

 

“Because it’s fucking _pathetic,_ Gavin, okay? It’s pathetic that he can’t fucking rise above all the superficial horseshit that’s swirling around him.” He stopped and turned to face Gavin. “I mean, why—why is it that some people can’t see a good thing when it’s standing right in front of them, huh?” He swallowed, taking in the look of dawning realization on Gavin’s face before speaking again. “What is it that fucking screws all that up? Can you tell me? I swear, you’re like two-year olds; you’re more interested in the wrapping paper than what’s fucking inside.”

 

Gavin was silent, just staring at him looking gobsmacked. Michael shook his head, seeming to give up, and proceeded to walk away again.

 

“Wait.” Gavin’s voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned around, a guarded expression on his face as he waited for Gavin to continue.

 

“Are you—are you talking about Ray? Or me?” Gavin asked, though he looked like he knew the answer to the question already. Michael chuckled wryly in response.

 

“If there’s a difference, let me know.”

 

He turned and walked away, leaving a confused and anguished Gavin to stare at his retreating back.

 

\--

 

“Hey, Ray.” Michael’s voice pulled Ray from his stupor as he wiped the same spot on the table he was cleaning for the fifth time that night. He turned to see Michael approaching him, a sheepish look on his face. “Just—just leave it. You’ve had a long day. I’ll close the shop.”

 

Ray furrowed his brows, hesitant and not knowing if Michael was still mad at him over Fuzzy. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Michael gave him a small grin. “Yeah—go home, get drunk. You look like you fucking need it.”

 

Ray seemed to think about it for a second, before letting out a breath and giving him a grateful smile. “Thanks, bro.”

 

He dropped the cleaning supplies on the table, letting Michael give him a small pat on the shoulder before he grabbed his bag from the counter. He stopped and turned to address Michael, who had already started working on the rest of the tables.

 

“Hey,” he called, making the man look up. “I’ll, um… see you tomorrow.”

 

“Yep,” Michael said, and watched him leave the restaurant in hollowed silence. As soon as Ray was out of the door, he bit his lip and resumed cleaning, determined to get the work done before the hour was over.

 

_Beep, beep!_

He stopped and looked up in search of the sound. A light coming from the shop counter told him Ray had left his computer open and his Skype account was still logged in.

 

_Beep, beep!_

He dropped the cloth he was using to wipe the tables and walked over to the counter to see if it was definitely what he thought it was.

 

_Beep, beep! Beep, beep!_

Sure enough, a Skype chat window was open on Ray’s computer screen. It was filled with messages dating a few hours back, and all of them were from Fuzzy22.

_Beep, beep! Beep, beep!_ New messages kept appearing on the chat box. It seemed like Fuzzy wasn’t giving up on Ray that easily.

 

Michael stared at the screen, a plan forming in his head as he watched Fuzzy try to elicit a single response from his complete idiot of a friend.

 

 _Well, Ray. Aren’t you lucky to have a really awesome friend like me?_ He grabbed the keyboard and proceeded to type a response to Fuzzy’s endless stream of messages. _Really fuckin-ass lucky._

 

If they didn’t make a hero out of him after what he was about to do, Michael was throwing the mother of all bitch fits.


	9. Chapter 9

“Mmm, yes… God, babe, your mouth feels so good.”

 

Gavin didn’t respond to Tadd’s breathy statement, instead returning to lavish his swollen member with his tongue.  He grabbed the shaft with a tight fist and laved at the shiny head, lapping at the steady flow of precome gathering on the tip.

 

“Oh, god.” The dark-haired man all but arched off the bed, the feel of Gavin’s tongue on the sensitive crown sending him into another bout of ecstasy. Gavin gave him a heated look through his lashes then bent down to swallow the girth, taking in as much of Tadd’s cock as he could.

 

“Yes, don’t fucking stop,” said Tadd, burying a hand in Gavin’s hair and thrusting his hips up, trying to fuck into Gavin’s mouth. The sudden movement caused Gavin to gag a little, and he placed a hand on the man’s hip to steady him. He then started to bob his head, hollowing out his cheeks and rolling his tongue around the shaft as he sucked.

 

“Shit, you look so fucking _hot_.” A low voice sounded from somewhere beside the bed. Gavin pulled away from Tadd’s cock to gape at Brad, who was already removing his shirt while staring at them with a lustful expression.

 

“What the—no.” He shot away from the bed, yanking the blanket from under Tadd and covering himself with it. “Bloody fucking _no!_ Have you gone mental? _”_

Tadd heaved himself up from the bed, looking just barely concerned. “Come on, babe. It’s just Brad.”

 

“Yeah, Gav, relax. It’s cool,” said Brad, the lewd grin still not slipping from his face.

 

Gavin stared at them disbelievingly. “He’s your fucking _brother!_ ” he said to Tadd. The man just looked back at him, not seeming bothered by the idea. Aghast, Gavin wrapped the blanket tighter around his waist. “Get out.”

 

Brad raised his eyebrows at that. “Gavin, it’s my brother’s house. I practically _live_ here.”

 

“I can’t believe this,” said Gavin, and started to pick up his clothes from the floor, putting them on with hands shaking in anger and embarrassment.

 

Tadd scoffed and climbed out of the bed to stand beside Brad. “C’mon, Gav, what’s the big deal? Haven’t you ever had a fucking threesome before?”

 

Brad continued to grin. “It’s fun; we’ll show you.”

 

“No! Piss off!” Gavin continued to dress himself quickly.

 

Tadd went over to sit on the bed, looking at Gavin with furrowed brows. “Where the hell are you going? I can’t believe you’re getting so fucked up about it! It’s not like you’re the most moral guy on the planet.”

 

“What?” Gavin turned to stare at Tadd, an indignant expression on his face.

 

“Look, one of the reasons I dug you so much is because you’re obviously…”

 

“Experimental.” Brad put in.

 

“Yeah, experimental!” Tadd agreed.

 

“Yeah, well, science class is over, children!” Gavin grit out, yanking his shirt over his head and starting to put on his shoes.

 

“C’mon, Gav, don’t fucking leave!” Tadd went around the bed to grab Gavin by the arm.

 

“Yeah, you know you want me,” said Brad, smirking as he sat over on the bed. Gavin scoffed and tried to pull away from Tadd, who held on strongly.

 

“What’s the big deal?” he asked, his tone suddenly dangerous.

 

“Have you been taking the mickey? You want to me to shag you and your _brother!”_ Gavin stared at him in disbelief. “Just—just bloody let go of me, all right?”

 

“No,” said Tadd, an unpleasant look on his face as he gripped Gavin’s arm tighter. “Get on the bed.”

 

“No!” Gavin snapped, and tried to yank his hand away from his grasp. Tadd, however, seemed to be quite strong. He held on to Gavin, his grip unrelenting, causing Gavin to grit his teeth in anger and pull away with as much force as he could muster.

 

“Let. Me. Go!” This time, he was successful. Tadd’s hold on his arm slipped and his effort caused him to fly into the wooden dresser in front of the bed. Gavin hit his head on the edge of the piece of furniture and flopped down on the floor, pain coursing through his forehead as he fell.

 

Silence settled over the room. Tadd just stood there, breathing heavily as he stared down at Gavin’s form on the floor, while Brad kept still on the bed. The only sound that could be heard was Gavin’s shaking breath as he clambered up from the ground. He felt something wet on his forehead, and reached up to touch the wound that he knew had begun to form. He brought them back down and stared at the blood on his fingers, his with eyes wide in shock.

 

“Look at what you did,” Tadd said eventually, trying to stay calm.

 

“What _I_ did?” Gavin balled his hands into fists, shaking in anger. “Get the _fuck_ away from me!” He threw a punch at Tadd’s face, sending him sprawling on the bed beside his brother.

 

Not waiting for Tadd to recover, Gavin turned and stormed away from the room, banging the door shut behind him.

 

“The fucker punched me!” came Tadd’s voice of disbelief from inside the room, and it did nothing to take away the mounting feeling of fury and shame that was taking over Gavin’s insides like a monster devouring its prey.

 

\--

 

“Fuck, Gav, what happened to your forehead?”

 

Gavin stilled his assault on a particular stubborn grease stain on the frying pan he was washing, taking a breath before resuming his work. “Erm, it’s nothing. I just tripped on my Xbox last night and hit my desk in the process.”

 

Ray screwed his face up in a sympathetic frown. “Shit. That’s gotta hurt.”

 

Gavin shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it. “Eh, it’s fine. Dealt with worse things than this.”

 

There was a moment of silence after that, and Gavin assumed Ray was finished fussing over his injury when suddenly the latter spoke, sounding quite concerned. “Um, Gav?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You’re fuckin’ bleeding.” Michael’s voice came from somewhere around his left.

 

A hand suddenly gripped his arm and pulled him away from the sink. He turned to see Michael in frighteningly close proximity, staring at his wound with a furrowed brow.

 

“Wh—”

 

“Hold still,” said the man, biting his lip as he reached out for a paper towel, using it to dab at the injury and stem the flow of blood. Gavin’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Michael’s brown eyes just a few inches from his face, entirely focused on the wound on Gavin’s forehead.

 

The knowledge of the man’s feelings for him, as he’d realized just a couple of days ago during Michael’s emotional ranting in the park, combined with their sudden closeness made him blush several shades of red. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Gavin struggled to speak again.

 

“You really don’t have to…”

 

Michael’s eyes glanced down at him, and Gavin saw his lips turn into a mildly irritated frown before he suddenly moved away and reached for something on the counter beside them. Gavin was able to breathe for a few moments before Michael was in his face again, this time carefully removing the Band-Aid Gavin had haphazardly slapped on the wound earlier that morning and replacing it with a new one.

 

As soon as the bandage was carefully set in place, Michael pulled his eyes away from the injury and met Gavin’s own green orbs. Gavin watched as the man’s eyes widened, as if just realizing their proximity, and a blush crept up his cheeks, matching the one already on Gavin’s face.

 

“I…uh…”

 

Gavin bit his lip and hesitated for a moment before reaching out a hand to touch Michael’s arm.

 

“Thanks,” he said, giving the man a grateful look. He wondered if this was okay, if Michael was still pissed off at him or if his sudden concern for his well-being was a peace offering of some sort. He watched as Michael swallowed and glanced down at where Gavin was touching him, the blush on his face deepening, if that was even possible. He looked back up at Gavin, visibly struggled for something to say.

 

“N-no problem,” he mumbled in response, eyes still not leaving Gavin’s own.

 

 _“A-hem!”_ Both men gave a start at the sound of Ray’s pointed cough, effectively breaking the moment. Michael immediately pulled away from Gavin’s grasp and buried his hands in his pockets, stepping back and looking anywhere but at Gavin.

 

“Well, uh,” he said, the blush on his face still not fading, determinedly ignoring Ray’s amused expression from the cash register. “I gotta—I gotta go back to them sandwiches.” Keeping his eyes on the floor, he sidestepped Gavin and went back to the stove, where he proceeded to work as if nothing had happened.

 

Gavin turned to follow the man with his eyes, and promptly met Ray’s meaningful look from the other end of the shop counter. Rolling his eyes at Ray, he heaved a sigh and went back to the sink, resuming his battle with the never-ending grease stains on Geoff’s old kitchen equipment.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder, however, what would’ve happened if Ray hadn’t been there. Would they be…would Michael even…?

 

He paused from his scrubbing and tried to shake the thoughts away from his head.

 

_You’ve still got bloody Tadd to think about. One thing at a time, Free. One thing at a time._

It still didn’t stop his head from trying to imagine, in frighteningly vivid detail, what it would feel if he’d just seized the moment, grabbed Michael by the arm and pressed his lips against the man’s own.

 

He dropped the scrubbing brush into the sink and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

 

Why, wasn’t it the most perfect bloody time for him to be in love with _Michael fucking Jones_?

 

\--

 

The next evening, Gavin was busy counting the bills on the cash register when the door to the shop burst open and Tadd promptly walked in. He was alone, which made Gavin heave let out a small sigh of relief.

 

“You ready?” Tadd didn’t look like he was going to entertain any arguments that night. He stopped by the counter and gave Gavin a look that said _hurry up._

Gavin bit his lip and glanced at Geoff, who was watching the two of them from the tables with more than a little concern in his eyes, before stuffing the bills in the register and closing it with a loud _clang!_

“Yeah,” he bit out, untying the apron from his waist and tossing it on the counter beside him. Tadd nodded and waited as Gavin took a breath and turned to address his boss.

 

“Uh, Geoff? Is it all right if I get out a few minutes early?” he asked. The man raised his eyebrows and his eyes swept from the healing wound on Gavin’s forehead to Tadd, who was frowning impatiently beside the counter.

 

“Just be careful,” he said, the worry in his voice evident as he spoke. Gavin nodded and moved out of the counter, giving his boss a grateful glance before stalking out of the shop in long, hurried strides. Tadd followed closely behind him, but not before levelling a threatening glare at Geoff as he left.

 

“Are you fucking him?” he said as soon as they made it to the cold street outside the restaurant. Gavin made an indignant sound and turned around to stare at Tadd in complete disbelief.

 

“He’s my boss!” he exclaimed, shocked that the man would even think that.

 

Tadd scoffed. “Yeah, right. As if you don’t go around giving out blowjobs to every man you meet on the street. Wh—what about that punk guy in your shop, huh? The one with those stupid piercings? You two seem friendly, aren’t you screwing him, too? Is that why you haven’t been answering all my calls?”

 

“Are you fucking mental?!”

 

Tadd didn’t even flinch. “You’re a whore, Gavin. Everybody knows that. I let you go off to your shitty job and all I can see is you bending over for your ugly-ass friends in the fucking back room, taking it like a bitch.” He paused to give Gavin, who was already shaking with anger, a provoking look. “Oh, don’t act so fucking offended. Don’t you think I see how much of a cocktease you try to be? And _you_ were the one who had the gall to punch me the other night!”

 

“Are you fucking shitting me? You were asking me to have sex with you and your _brother_! Are you not aware how bloody fucked up that is?” Gavin paused to run a hand through his hair and let out a disbelieving laugh. “Oh god, I don’t even know why I’m still taking all this shit from you. We’re fucking over, Tadd. So go home to your brother and shag him, I don’t bloody care, just—just fucking get out my life.”

 

He turned and stormed away from the seething man, but he didn’t get far before strong hands grabbed him by the arm and slammed him against the brick wall on the side of the shop. He opened his eyes to see Tadd towering over him, the expression on his face one of murderous rage.

 

Gavin levelled the man with a challenging stare, not daring to show the fear in his eyes. “What, did that hit a nerve? You _want_ to fuck your brother, Tadd. It’s so bloody obvious even my friends can see it.” He scoffed. “You’re just—you’re just using me as an excuse to shag each other, when you don’t even fucking need me there!” He raised an eyebrow, completely disregarding the mounting look of anger in Tadd’s eyes, and pushed on. “That night after I left, I bet you two did it, anyway. Isn’t that right, huh? Tadd?”

 

“You _fucker,”_ Tadd ground out, and suddenly his hands were around Gavin’s neck, forcing the breath out of the man’s throat. Gavin gasped at the assault, gripping Tadd’s arms and trying to pry them away from him, but the man held on strongly.

 

“Say that again to my face, I dare you,” he threatened, pressing harder on Gavin’s throat until bruises started to form. The color of Gavin’s face started to change as he struggled for air and tears began to fall from his eyes, rolling down his rapidly purpling cheeks. Tadd just grinned maliciously at the sight.

 

“Not so fucking smart now, huh?” he said, not releasing his hold on Gavin’s neck. “Let me tell you something, you son of a bitch. I. Am not. Fucking. My brother. Is that clear? Because if I hear you say that to me one more time, I’ll— _oof!”_

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” Gavin heard Michael shout as he slid down the wall and onto the ground, closing his eyes in relief and trying to take in as much air as he could and putting his hands protectively around his neck. He opened his eyes blearily after a couple of seconds only to see Michael on top of Tadd, trying to pummel the man with his fists. His face was purple with anger, and it didn’t look like he was about to let up the beating even as blood started to spurt out of Tadd’s nose with every forceful blow.

 

“Michael!” he said hoarsely, and scrambled from the wall to heave the man away from, who was already bleeding profusely on the ground. “Stop it, you’re gonna kill him!” It took him a few tries before he was able to pull Michael off of Tadd. Michael gave Tadd one last, angry kick to his side before turning to face Gavin, who was still feeling dizzy from almost being choked to death.

 

“Fucking hell, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” said Gavin, trying to stop the man from fussing over him, but the effect was lost as he teetered where he stood.

 

Michael reached out an arm to steady him. “You’re not _fine,_ you idiot. C’mon, let’s get back inside the shop before you faint.”

 

“Wh—what about—”

 

“Fucking _leave_ him! I can’t believe you’re still— _agh!”_ Michael’s words were cut off as a long wooden board made contact with the back of his head, sending him sprawling on the ground in front of Gavin. Gavin’s eyes widened in fear as he saw Tadd glaring back at him with a crazed look in his eyes, a hard wooden shingle from the nearby dumpsters held in his hands. Blood was still dripping down his nose, making him look even more dangerous as he towered above Michael’s prone form.

 

“You’re all fucking pussies,” he spat, tossing the board aside and aiming a strong kick at Michael’s side, making him curl up on the ground in pain. “You still think you’re gonna get away with this, huh, Gav? Well, your little boyfriend here’s gonna get himself beaten to death because of you! How’s that for a nice ending?” He kicked at Michael again, the impact causing the man to groan out and writhe in agony.

 

Gavin’s blood went cold at the sight. He shot over from Michael’s side to tackle Tadd on the ground, aiming a punch at his already bloody face. He was able to deliver the first blow before the man suddenly had an iron grip on his arm, and he grabbed at Gavin’s head to slam it against his own.

 

 _“Oof!”_ He groaned out in pain and fell to the ground, black spots dancing around his eyes at the force of Tadd’s headbutt. He could feel the man clamber up from somewhere beside him, huffing out a weak laugh at the sight of him and Michael cowering on the floor.

 

“You can’t fucking take me,” he heard Tadd say, scorn dripping from the man’s angered voice. Scared, Gavin screwed his eyes shut and waited for the impending strike before a new voice broke into the chaos.

 

“Why don’t you fucking try me instead?”

 

He opened his eyes to see Geoff standing outside the side entrance to the shop, sending Tadd a look that promised the man immense pain and misery. Tadd just scoffed, wiping away at the blood on his face and raising an eyebrow at the older man.

 

“What the fuck is up with you people?” he drawled, obviously too far gone to notice that he was starting to get outnumbered. Ray and Barbara were already walking out the side door, too, the expression on their faces turning to horror as they spotted Michael and Gavin near-fainting on the ground. “You’re too goddamn old to take me, mister, so just fucking—”

 

Geoff rolled his eyes at the man’s tirade and didn’t waste any time before throwing a punch into the man’s stomach and throwing him against the dumpster, sending Tadd sprawling on the ground in a daze. He walked up to the man, pushed him on his back, and stomped his foot on his throat, effectively limiting his circulation.

 

“Listen here, you dumb fuck,” Geoff ground out, glaring at Tadd, who was too busy gasping for air under him. “Don’t you fucking come near any of my employees again, or I’ll cut off your balls, let Michael fry them up real crispy, put them in a sandwich, and stuff your ugly-ass mouth with it.” He increased the pressure on Tadd’s throat, the guttural noises that ensued not seeming to bother him one bit. “Is. That. Clear?”

 

Everyone else looked on in amazement as Tadd nodded, clawing at Geoff’s leg as he struggled to catch his breath. It took a few more seconds before Geoff decided there was a sufficient amount fear in the man’s eyes, then removed his foot and stepped away, letting the man scramble up and run off into his car. He revved the engine as quick as he could and the vehicle sped away into night, leaving a cloud of smoke in its wake.

 

“Well, if that wasn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever seen, then I don’t know what is,” said Ray, sounding impressed.

 

“Fucking hell, Geoff.” Barbara stared at their boss, who turned and looked at them, not even seeming the least bit flustered. “Where did all those kung fu moves come from?”

 

Geoff just shook his head and gestured over to Michael and Gavin, who were both struggling to get up from the ground. “Just…fucking help them up, will you? Let’s go back to my house.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Fuckin’ Geoff _Fink_?” Michael’s incredulous voice sounded through Geoff’s living room as he and Ray congregated around their boss’s high school yearbook. Michael was nursing a bleeding lip and a black eye while Barbara was busy tending to the bruise at the back of his head with an ice pack. Gavin, meanwhile, was sitting in an armchair near the fireplace, pressing his own ice pack to his forehead and seeming out of sorts as he listened to the conversation around him.

 

Ray tittered at Michael’s disbelief, while Geoff just gave an exasperated groan.

 

“Fuck you, see if I save your life ever again,” he said sullenly and took a long drink from the beer bottle he was nursing out on the back porch.

 

Barbara looked over Michael's shoulder to stare at Geoff's high school picture, in which a much younger version of their boss was dressed in a football uniform and running across a pitch. “You were the star quarterback of your team?” she asked, surprised.

 

Geoff lowered the bottle, looking a bit embarrassed at the discovery. He scratched at the back of his head before responding, “Yeah, well. Easier to get chicks that way.”

 

“If only you could do the same now,” said Michael. Geoff glared over at him, raising the bottle to his lips again.

 

“Why’d you get your last name changed?” Barbara asked again, sounding genuinely curious.

 

Geoff lowered the bottle and shrugged. “Stepfather’s last name was Ramsey. Mom got me to change mine, and I didn’t really mind. Besides, Fink’s really not a good name to take with you to the army.”

 

Ray looked surprised. “You were in the army?”

 

“I enlisted back in 1993, straight out of high school,” said Geoff, sounding just a bit nostalgic as he fiddled with the beer bottle in his hands. “Served for about five years, until I got fed up with all the fucking killing that was happening around me. Decided to quit after that, and then got a job as a photojournalist in Kuwait.” He shook his head, somber. “The killings didn’t stop. If anything, just sitting there with a fucking camera and not being able to do anything only made it worse.”

 

“Is that why you moved back to Santa Cruz?” Barbara asked.

 

Geoff nodded, placing the bottle down on the low table in front him, looking thoughtful. “Decided to go back to school and take up filming.” He smiled at that. “It was fun; I met these awesome guys, Burnie, Joel, and Gus. They’re a little…different from the guys I used to hang out with. Made me forget a lot of things about the previous six, seven years. We’ve been best buds ever since.”

 

Ray grinned at the story, seeming impressed. “So that’s how you got those awesome Bruce Lee moves.”

 

“Yeah, boss,” Michael piped up. “You could be, like, a member of the Secret Service or something,” He winced a bit as Barbara dabbed at something particularly painful on the back of his head.

 

Geoff chuckled. “I’m not really supposed to be practicing any of what they taught me in Fort Hood, you know. Promised myself I wouldn’t hurt another human being after I retired from service.”

 

Gavin, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, suddenly stood up from his seat, looking quite upset. Everyone watched as he walked over to the back porch and sat in front of their boss, who looked at him in surprise.

 

“Gav, what—”

 

He shook his head and leaned over to place a small kiss on Geoff’s lips, pulling away to bite at his lip as the other man blushed about seventy shades of red. Michael’s indignant sputter could be heard from the living room, while Barbara and Ray just sniggered and looked on.

 

“I’m—I’m really sorry I made you break your promise,” said Gavin, still sounding upset as he fidgeted in his seat in front of Geoff. “You…I’ve never seen you hurt anyone before, after all this time working in your shop, and I’ve certainly been a pain-in-the-arse enough times to warrant at least a smack to the head. But with Tadd—”

 

“Shut up, Gavin,” said Geoff suddenly, making the man look up in surprise. He grinned at Gavin and continued. “I never said Tadd was a fucking human being in the first place, you know.”

 

Gavin smiled, looking relieved, and ran a hand through his hair. “But, really. Thanks, Geoff.”

 

Geoff looked at Gavin fondly and reached out to ruffle his hair.

 

“No problem, kid,” he said, and his expression suddenly changed. “Just…just promise me you won’t go out with any more shitheads. Why can’t you just fucking go for a nice guy or girl once in a while?”

 

Gavin looked down and gave a wry grin. “Yeah, about that…”

 

He glanced up to see Michael staring over at him, obviously listening in to the exchange with rapt attention. He caught the man’s eyes for a moment, before coming to a decision.

 

“Problem is, Geoff,” Gavin said, turning back to their boss, “those people don’t really go for blokes like me, you know. I’ve never…I’ve never met an actual nice person who’d ask me out for more than just my looks.”

 

Geoff raised an eyebrow at that, seeming to clue in on Gavin’s statement. “Well, uh, what do you know? They might just be around the corner. If they’d just get their head out of their asses and, y’know, make a move, you won’t have to screw around with dumbfucks like this ever again. But yeah, that’s just me.”

 

Gavin just shook his head and tried to hide his grin, while Michael looked like Geoff had just reached over across the room and slapped him soundly on the back of his head. Ray just scoffed at the statement.

 

“Speak for yourself, Geoff. You still haven’t asked Griffon out, you know.”

 

Geoff drew back into his seat, looking sullen. “Yeah, well, that’s an entirely different matter altogether. I mean, Griffon probably won’t go for an old geezer like me, who’s gone and quit the army and now just makes these stupid-ass college films with his friends. I’m not gonna fucking impress her with anything I’ve got.”

 

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? I think you two have a _lot_ to talk about.” He pointed to a picture in Geoff’s yearbook, and Barbara let out a gasp.

 

“Oh my god, is that Griffon?” she said, leaning over to look at the book with wide eyes. Geoff’s ears perked up at the name and he turned from where he sat, an excited expression on his face.

 

“What? Where?”

 

“Freshman Griffon O’Connell enjoying a relaxing afternoon in the quad,” Ray read, the caption below a picture of a much younger Griffon, all flowing blonde hair and wide smiles, sitting down cross-legged on the grassy floor. Geoff gestured for his employee to bring the yearbook to him, and Ray stood up to pass it over. Their boss grabbed the book, eyes alight as he took in Griffon's high-school photo with an expression of wonder.

 

“You were schoolmates!” Gavin said, leaning over to get a look at the yearbook too. He glanced up at Geoff and grinned. “You know what that means, boss.”

 

Geoff furrowed his brows. “What's that?”

 

Barbara rolled her eyes. “C'mon, Geoff, think! Griffon probably knows you from your high school years. You were the freakin' star quarterback. I'm sure you were totally popular then.”

 

Geoff looked unsure. “But she's, like, so badass. With her chainsaw and stuff.”

 

Michael scoffed. “Doesn't fucking matter. If this is what's gonna get you to pull your head out of your ass and start talking to the girl of your dreams, by all means, use it, boss-man.”

 

Everybody watched as Geoff seemed to think about it, looking back down to stare at Griffon's yearbook photo. He came to a decision after a moment, and looked back up at his employees, who were all wearing expectant looks on their faces.

 

“Well?” Barbara asked, sounding excited.

 

Geoff heaved a sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head as if afraid he’d regret what he was about to do. “Fine,” he finally said, looking determined. “Fine, I'll do it.”

 

–

 

_Brrrrrrm! BrrrrRRRRM! BRRRRRRRRMMMMMM!!!_

 

Outside the door of Griffon's workshop, just across the Beach City Grill, Geoff bit his lip and tried to find an excuse to postpone his visit. Griffon seemed busy with a project and was armed with a deadly weapon he'd rather not have around him while he was confessing to the girl of his dreams.

 

Grimacing, he looked back to the sandwich shop, where Barbara was watching him like a hawk.

 

She made a threatening face and walked closer to the windows.

 

Geoff glared back. He wondered if it had really been wise to hire employees that liked sticking their noses in other people's business.

 

Barbara raised her eyebrows at his non-action and nodded at Griffon's door as if to say, _go on._

 

Geoff sighed and caved. _Here fucking goes._

 

He pushed the door open and entered the shop, alerting Griffon to his presence as he came in.

 

_Brrrrrrmmm—_

 

The sound of the chainsaw stopped abruptly as Griffon looked up to acknowledge him, looking surprised.

 

“Oh, Geoff. Hi.”

 

He walked over and smiled shyly at her. “Yeah, hi.”

 

Griffon straightened up, setting her tool on the table beside her, then turning to give Geoff her full attention. “Y—you've never been to my shop before.”

 

Geoff chewed at his lip and scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. I never really had the time to, uh, visit.”

 

Griffon nodded at that. “So what brings you here?”

 

He let out an embarrassed chuckle, looking down on the floor before answering. “I just...I just wanted to ask if...”

 

He glanced up to see Griffon staring expectantly at him. _Carpe fucking diem._ “...if, uh, you would like to have lunch with me sometime? When you’re not doing any of your woodcarving stuff?”

 

Griffon seemed surprised at the question. She furrowed her brow for a moment and bit her lip, looking confused, and Geoff started panicking.

 

 _Fuck, fuck, FUCK, she’s gonna say no. You’re a fucking idiot for asking her out, oh god—_ “Y—you know what, forget I asked that,” said Geoff, forcing out a chuckle and wishing for the ground to swallow him up whole. “I’m an idiot. You can just go back to working on your thing and I’m gonna g—”

 

“No, stay,” said Griffon, taking a step forward and looking concerned. She seemed to struggle with something for a moment before she continued. “I…I don’t get why you’re asking me out now.”

 

Geoff raised his eyebrows at that. “…Why not?”

 

“Because you’re Geoff Fink,” said Griffon, and the sound of his old name made Geoff stand rooted to the spot. _They’re fucking right. She remembers me._ “You—you’ve never paid attention to _me_ before, and now I’m a middle-aged lady who carves wood for a living and has a septum ring on her nose and I just—I don’t _understand._ ” She finished, biting her lip again and seeming at a loss for words. “I don’t understand why suddenly _now._ ”

 

Geoff ran a hand through his hair, the look on his face sheepish. “Because…because I’m a fucking idiot?” he said, finally. “Look, Griffon. I…I was a dumb piece of shit back in high school. Still am, but I got to the point in my life where I—I just realized what really _matters._ ” He buried his hands in his pockets and looked up to meet Griffon’s gaze. The expression on her face was starting to clear up as she began to understand what he was getting at. “I just—I just want you to know that I think you’re awful pretty, and really fucking amazing, and that I don’t give a shit how old we both are—I just want to give _this_ a try.”

 

Griffon was quiet, not seeming to give any indication that she wanted dignify Geoff’s declaration with a response. He felt his heart plummet as the silence stretched on, and finally, after realizing that he couldn’t take it anymore, Geoff stepped back, feeling like he should just probably crawl into a hole for the next decade or so.

 

“So, uh, yeah…” he said, weakly, trying to save his dignity by not running away. “I know this may seem a bit too sudden, but I’m just putting it out there. But really, though. You don’t have to—”

 

“I want to,” said Griffon suddenly, an earnest expression on her face. She seemed to catch herself and drew back, not wanting to seem like a girl fulfilling her high school fantasy. “I—I mean…we should probably give this a chance. If that’s what you’d like.”

 

Geoff swallowed and tried to stop himself from fist pumping the air, instead settling for giving Griffon what he hoped was a non-creepy smile.

 

“I’d—I’d really like that, yeah.”

 

It seemed to have the intended effect; Griffon smiled back at him and blushed slightly. It was probably the prettiest Geoff had ever seen her, with her looking at him with shy affection in her eyes.

 

He didn’t know if he deserved something as good as this in his life, but he was definitely never letting her go. Not if he could help it.

 

\--

 

“Whoa. That wall’s turning out pretty well, Barb.”

 

Barbara turned to grin at Ray, who was looking at her painting of the Santa Cruz beach appreciatively. “Thanks,” she said, and turned back to add another detailed stroke to the shoreline. “I’m not _that_ good with painting stuff, but I hope Geoff likes the way it’s gonna look when I’m done.”

 

“ _I_ think it looks fine,” said a familiar voice from the doorway. Barbara’s eyes widened as she realized who it belonged to and turned to find Burnie in the entrance of the sandwich shop, looking back at her with a vaguely sheepish expression on his face.

 

“Um,” she began, blinking at his sudden appearance. _What the hell is he doing here?_ “I—I don’t think Geoff’s in the shop yet so…”

 

Burnie shook his head. “I didn’t come to see him,” he said. “Can we…can we talk for a moment?”

 

Barbara didn’t know what Burnie could possibly want to talk about with her, especially after that incredibly embarrassing display last week that effectively demonstrated how she can’t apparently help but stuff her foot in her mouth at the worst possible times. She set her brush aside on the counter nearest the wall and wiped her hands on her overalls. Burnie waited as she hesitated for a moment, before nodding and gesturing to the shop door.

 

“We can…talk outside if you want?” she offered, moving to lead Burnie out into the sunny street.

 

They walked down the pavement in awkward silence, Barbara wrapping her arms around herself protectively as she wondered what Burnie had to say to her. Was he going to fire her again, this time for being an actual nosy bitch and prying into his life? Because she didn’t think she could handle all that embarrassment, to be honest.

 

“Barbara, look,” Burnie interrupted her internal turmoil and stopped to face her on the street with a purposeful look. “About that night, I—”

 

“I’m really sorry about that,” said Barbara, chewing on her lip nervously. “I didn’t mean to stick my nose into your business. It’s your life, and it’s really up to you if you want to—”

 

“Damn it, can’t you stop and listen to me for once in your life?” Burnie snapped, sounding annoyed and more than a little frustrated. Barbara closed her mouth, shocked at his outburst. He calm himself down, a blush coloring his features and a sheepish look taking over his face yet again.

 

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, looking down and seeming to regret what he said. He looked up again, this time determined. “I came to see you for a reason. I—I just wanted to say that, well, you’re right. I miss my wife.”

 

Barbara’s brow furrowed as she took in Burnie’s confession. “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because…because I want you to understand that I miss the idea of her, of—of being with someone I care about.” Burnie heaved a sigh and buried his hands into his pockets. “But I don’t want to _be with her_ again.”

 

Barbara nodded. “I understand that. You need time for yourself. That’s why you have that film, you want to—”

 

Burnie shook his head and chuckled wryly. “No. I had enough of myself to last me a lifetime. Have you met me? I’m _horrible._ I can’t keep good relationships with people I like, and I end up losing them in the process. That’s…that’s what happened with Jordan. She grew tired of me eventually and just…left.” He ended the sentence with what sounded like a desolate tone, and Barbara felt sympathy for the older man.

 

“I’m sorry about your wife,” she said quietly.

 

A small smile tugged at the corner of Burnie’s mouth. “I feel the same way, believe me. But, well, I learned a lot from that divorce, you know.”

 

Barbara looked up to see Burnie biting his lip and struggling to express whatever it was that was eating at him. He spoke eventually, sounding hesitant.

 

“I…I realized that I _need_ to take care of the people in my life,” he said, an earnest look suddenly taking over his face. “There are people around me who _matter,_ and if I don’t pull my head out of my ass and show them I actually want them to stay, they won’t. No matter how much I start begging in the end, when they finally decided to leave.”

 

Barbara was starting to get an idea of what Burnie meant, and her heart started pounding in her chest as she tried to process the implications in her head. As she remained silent where she stood, Burnie decided to continue with his confession.

 

“That’s why I’m here,” he said, suddenly looking vulnerable as he tried to make Barbara understand what he really wanted to say. “I want to…I want to tell you that _you_ matterto me, and that, well, I may be an ass sometimes, but I want you to _stay._ Probably…give me a chance to show you I can actually be a decent human being.”

 

Barbara stared at him. “Burnie, are you…?”

 

He heaved a mildly irritated sigh. “I’m asking you out, all right? I’m sorry if I’m really shit at this, it’s been a while since I—”

 

Barbara couldn’t help it, and started laughing. Burnie looked a bit offended.

 

“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “At least you’re not running away?”

 

Barbara got a hold of herself, a smile still on her lips as she looked up at Burnie. “I’m sorry, Burnie. It’s just that you’re—you’re really adorable sometimes, when you’re not threatening to bite my ass off, that is.”

 

Burnie nodded cautiously. “Adorable isn’t exactly the word I’m looking for, but…”

 

Barbara chuckled and looked down, a blush taking over her face as she thought, _fuck it._ “Yeah, all right,” she said finally, looking back up at him.

 

Burnie looked hopeful. “All right?”

 

Barbara nodded. “All right meaning, let’s give this a shot.”

 

A relieved expression washed over Burnie’s face, and he smiled, looking happier than Barbara had ever seen him. “That—that’s good.”

 

“Well, uh,” said Barbara, before another awkward silence could ensue. “I should…probably go back to the shop.”

 

“Can I…” Burnie hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Can I pick you up tonight? For dinner?”

 

“Y-yeah,” said Barbara, not able to help the grin that broke across her face. “That would nice.”

 

“Awesome,” said Burnie, nodding. He still looked pretty happy, and it flattered Barbara more than she’d care to admit.

 

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said, and leaned forward to give him a peck on the cheek before she pulled away, walked up the street and back into the shop, all the while thinking about what she’d gotten herself into.

 

Strangely, she found as she walked into the restaurant and went back to the painting, pointedly ignoring Ray’s inquiring stare from the cash register, that she couldn’t find it in her to mind Burnie’s affection even one bit.

 

In fact, she wanted more than anything else to welcome it.

 

\--

 

_BAM! BAM! BAM!_

“Jesus Christ,” Ray muttered as he rolled over in his bed and glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. Six AM. He wondered who was crazy enough to wake him up at this ungodly hour.

 

“Goddamn it, Ray! Open your fucking door!” Michael’s voice sounded through the apartment. Ray screwed his eyes shut, feeling a headache threatening to come on.

 

“What the fuck do you want?” he called out, still groggy as he crawled out of the bed and staggered over to the door. He opened it to find Michael staring back at him, looking far too awake for six in the morning on a fucking Saturday.

 

“You have to come with me,” he said breathlessly. There was a look of panic in his eyes.

 

“To where?” Ray asked, startled awake by Michael’s troubled expression. “What happened?”

 

Michael ran a hand through his hair. “It’s Barbara. She…”

 

“She _what_?” Ray demanded, the feeling of urgency starting to grow.

 

Michael just shook his head and gestured for Ray to follow him. “You have to come with me to the shop. I’ll explain there.”

 

“…Okay.” Ray rushed to his closet to grab a jacket and pull on some pants. Slipping on a pair of sneakers, he snatched his keys from his desk and ran over to the doorway, locking it and following Michael down to his car.

 

“What’s fucking happening?” Ray asked as soon as they buckled in and Michael drove out into the street, driving as fast he could to the sandwich shop. Michael chewed his lip and furrowed his brow as he sped past a red light, making Ray’s eyes widen in apprehension.

 

“Did you just beat that—”

 

“No time to talk, Ray,” Michael growled, and made a swift turn into a shortcut which took them to the street behind the sandwich shop. He slammed on the breaks and cut off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping of the car, waiting for Ray to do the same.

 

Ray followed him out, feeling more and more bewildered at the situation. “Okay, is she inside the shop?”

 

“Yeah,” said Michael, looking preoccupied as he seemed to think of something. He approached Ray and stared at him critically.

 

“What?” Ray asked, confused.

 

“Nothing. Just—” Michael reached over to smooth a bit of Ray’s hair.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ray demanded, slapping his hand away. Wasn’t Barbara in danger? Why was Michael wasting time fiddling around with his hair?

 

“Stop fucking moving too much,” Michael growled, annoyed, and fussed around with Ray some more before he stepped back, apparently satisfied with his appearance. He nodded. “All right, that’s better. Come on, let’s get inside.”

 

Utterly bewildered, Ray followed Michael through the back door and into the Beach City Grill. As it was still a couple of hours before it was due to open, Ray would have assumed it was empty. He stepped inside cautiously, looking around for any sign of Barbara, Geoff, or Gavin.

 

“Michael,” he whispered urgently as he caught up to the man. “Where the hell are they? Why did you—”

 

“Just fucking get in here,” Michael hissed back, and gestured for him to follow into the shop’s main area. Annoyed that Michael was keeping him in the dark, Ray frowned as he glanced around before he stopped, finally seeing what his friend had been so secretive about.

 

A blonde-haired woman with an all-too-familiar septum piercing on her nose sat in one of the tables near the shop windows. She looked up as soon as she heard Ray come in, and her eyes widened as she took in his presence.

 

For Ray, time stopped to a standstill, and everything around him grew insignificant as a single thought echoed through his head: _She’s here. She’s here. She’s here. She’s—_

“Hi,” the woman said, getting up from her seat and taking a step towards Ray, who was still too shocked to move. “You’re—you’re BrownMan, right?”

 

Ray swallowed and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He could vaguely hear Michael stifle a groan somewhere beside him.

 

The girl smiled a little and nodded back before speaking again. “I don’t know if you recognize me, but I’m Fuzzy? I’m the person on the other side of that chat box. My…my real name’s Courtney. Courtney Crawford.”

 

Ray remained silent, and Courtney’s smile began to falter. She bit her lip and looked down, a sheepish look taking over her features.

 

“Look,” she said eventually, sounding a bit scared. “I…I was sad, and more than a little disgusted with myself when you didn’t come that night. I thought—” She paused, and took a shuddering breath. “I thought you saw _me,_ didn’t like how I looked, and slipped away before I realized you were there.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear and looked up at Ray again. “In some ways, I was right. You ran away, but not for the reasons I thought.” She glanced over at Michael, and gave him a grateful look. “Your friend, he…he caught me messaging you in a fit of drunken desperation the night after that.”

 

Ray looked over at Michael, surprised to hear about his involvement. The man just raised his eyebrows at him and shrugged.

 

“Shouldn’t leave your computer on when you go home, bro,” he said nonchalantly.

 

He was probably right, but Ray couldn’t even bring himself to process it because Fuzzy was fucking _there,_ larger than life and trying to understand why he was such a dumb little shit he couldn’t even muster up enough courage to face her that night. He didn’t deserve it, and the fact that she drove all the way to Santa Cruz just to _see him_ was too much for him to take. He looked back at her again, taking in the earnest look in her eyes, and spoke, his voice hoarse.

 

“I was…I saw _you._ Saw how pretty you are and I just couldn’t…” he trailed off, looking ashamed as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He tried again. “I couldn’t face you—not with how I am, now. I thought you’d be disappointed with a computer nerd like _me,_ with nothing to show for it but a high school diploma and a three-year employment in a sandwich shop. I’m not—I’m not good looking, not even accomplished, and I sure as hell don’t deserve someone as fucking beautiful as you are. That’s…that’s why left.”

 

He stopped, looking up to see Courtney staring back at him with an earnest expression. After a moment, she let out a small chuckle and ran a hand through her hair before speaking.

 

“Well, uh, too fucking bad, BrownMan,” she said, grinning. “I don’t give a shit about any of those things. In fact, I think you’re probably the cutest man I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

 

She didn’t wait for Ray to respond, instead turning back to the table and reaching over to grab something he couldn’t see from the seats. She pulled it up, revealing a _bouquet of fucking roses,_ and stepped back up next to Ray, who just stared back at her in shock.

 

“Michael said it’d be a great gesture,” said Courtney. She bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing at the gobsmacked expression on Ray’s face. “I really didn’t mind. I mean, how many times does a girl get to give a guy she likes a bouquet?”

 

Michael sniggered from behind the counter. “Girl after my own heart,” he said, sounding impressed.

 

Courtney held the bouquet out for Ray to accept, and he stared at her for another moment before he finally took the flowers, still in shock. Courtney stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond, and Michael cleared his throat.

 

“ _A-hem_ ,” he said, loud enough to break through the static in Ray’s ears. “The girl fucking gave you flowers, man.” He inclined his head towards Courtney. Ray nodded and sought the courage to speak.

 

“Th-thanks,” he said finally. “I really like roses,” he added, mumbling, and brought the bouquet up to smell the flowers.

 

Courtney grinned. “So you’ve told me,” she said, eyes sparkling in mirth.

 

“And…uh…” Ray brought the flowers down to his side and began to panic as he tried to say something that wouldn’t make him look like a blushing idiot in front of the girl of his dreams. “I think you’re really beautiful. Especially now. I mean, uh, not that you weren’t beautiful before, it’s just that—”

 

Courtney rolled his eyes at his rambling.

 

“Oh, fuck it,” she interrupted, exasperated, before grabbing the collar of Ray’s shirt and pulling him down to press a kiss fully on his lips.

 

“Fucking finally!” he heard Michael say from somewhere behind the counter, but all he could focus on was the feel of Courtney’s lips on his, and _hell._ It was better than all his wildest fucking dreams.

 

One of these days, he needed to buy Michael a fucking friendship medal.

 

\--

 

“So, you’re going out with Burnie, now? That’s top,” said Gavin, grinning over at Barbara as he pulled out a stack of plates from the overhead counter and placed them carefully on the counter near the stove. It was Monday and the business in the sandwich shop would be in full swing in just a couple of hours, but as always the staff found ways to keep the conversation going, much to Geoff’s chagrin.

 

“It’s not ‘top’, Gavin,” he said, sounding stern as he ambled over to where his employee stood. “It’s _weird_. Burnie’s old as fuck, and he’s her professor!” He turned to level Barbara with a look. “Why did you agree, anyway?”

 

“We’re not dating,” said Barbara defensively as she turned away from the wall painting she was close to finishing. “He just asked me out to dinner once, no big deal. _God._ ” She rolled her eyes and went back to fixing a particularly stubborn detail, pointedly ignoring her boss and co-worker. Gavin turned to Geoff, raising his eyebrows at him.

 

“Really, Geoff? As if you mooning over Griffon for the last couple of years wasn’t creepy at all,” he said. Geoff huffed at that.

 

“It’s different, okay. We’re both consenting adults, while Barbara’s screwing a middle-aged film professor and she’s not even—”

 

“I’m twenty-two years old, Geoff, don’t get your panties in a twist,” said Barbara, setting her brush down beside her and glaring at Geoff over the store countertop. “Besides, don’t worry, I’ll wait until I’ve graduated before I let him take me in every possible way on all available surfaces.”

 

She watched with satisfaction as the color of Geoff’s face paled at the thought of one of his best friends actually having sex with his only female employee. Relishing Geoff’s ensuing groan of disgust, she turned back to the wall and resumed painting, hoping that the pointless interrogation regarding her, well, technically still-nonexistent love life would end with that.

 

“Well, at least we know Burnie’s in for a treat,” said Gavin, an appreciative look on his face. Barbara and Geoff both glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender before shutting up and going back to setting down the cutlery for later use.

 

Geoff turned from Gavin and walked over to the middle of the shop, searching around for a familiar mop of curly, auburn hair.

 

“Where the fuck is Michael, anyway?” he demanded, looking up to give his employees an inquiring stare. “It’s already eight AM and I haven’t seen his ugly mug anywhere near the shop.”

 

He looked over at Gavin, who shrugged, looking clueless, then over to Ray who, on the other hand, had a knowing glint in his eyes.

 

“Hey, Ray,” he called to the man sitting in front of his computer, probably busy talking to his new girlfriend over Skype. “You know where Michael is?”

 

Ray looked up, an expression of innocence carefully plastered over his face before he spoke. “No,” he said. “He’s probably just late.”

 

Geoff frowned and rubbed at his temples, annoyed. “Well, he’d better get his ass in here before the restaurant starts filling up.”

 

Sure enough, the door soon burst open and Ryan ambled in, carrying a freshly-bought comic book which he took straight to one of the booths on the far corner of the shop, followed by Jack, who grinned over at Geoff and proceeded to engage him in conversation regarding his latest fishing trip. As soon as their boss was steered over to the table and busy chatting with his friend, Barbara turned to look at Ray inquiringly.

 

Ray just grinned and mouthed, “You’ll see,” before going back to his Skype conversation with Courtney. Gavin seemed oblivious to the exchange, continuing with the daily shop preparations while Barbara raised her eyebrows and went back to her painting, wondering what Michael’s absence was all about.

 

They worked in relative silence after that, with only the sound of Geoff and Jack chatting with each other accompanied by Ray’s incessant typing filling the shop, until suddenly the door to the restaurant opened again. What came inside made the two stop their conversation as they gaped at the newcomer in shock.

 

Barbara turned and almost dropped her brush when she saw Michael, all jazzed up in a dress shirt and a pair of nice pants, looking around the shop apprehensively. He had gotten rid of all his piercings and his arm tattoos were almost fully covered by his shirt sleeves, with only slivers of ink visible below the sleeve cuffs.

 

 _Oh. My. God._ Barbara watched in amazement as Michael searched the shop for a certain individual, his eyes stopping on a spot near the restaurant’s back door.

 

She turned to see Gavin, his eyes wide with surprise as he took in Michael’s appearance, placing the glass he was holding carefully on the countertop and straightening up to stare at the man confusedly.

 

“Michael,” he said, bewildered. “What are you…?”

 

Michael chewed on his lip and swallowed, a determined expression taking over his face before he stepped forward to face Gavin in front of the counter, and spoke.

 

“Mr. Free,” he began, watching as Gavin became even more confused at the formal address. “It would be my pleasure if you would accompany me to dinner tonight.”

 

Barbara met Ray’s amused expression over at the cash register and bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from squealing in delight. Over at the tables, Jack and Geoff were watching the scene in amazement, the latter sporting an approving look at Michael’s gesture.

 

Gavin, for his part, blushed about eighty shades of scarlet and stood rooted to the spot, seeming to struggle for a response. It was the first time Barbara had ever seen him flustered.

 

A long moment passed, and Michael was starting to look panicked when Gavin finally cleared his throat and responded.

 

“Depends,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

“On what?” Michael asked, confused.

 

Gavin’s smile grew wider. “Tell me your real name.”

 

Ray sniggered at that. “Hell, yeah,” he said, ignoring Michael’s betrayed look.

 

“You got to be kidding me,” said Michael, the air of formality dropped as he tried to save face. “C’mon, I fucking went to Banana Republic for this!” He gestured to his clothes, and Gavin tried not to laugh.

 

“Not giving you a real answer until you tell us your christened name, Jones,” said Gavin, seeming to enjoy Michael’s discomfort. Everyone else in the shop waited with bated breath as Michael tried to find a way around the condition. Finding none, he heaved a sigh and closed his eyes for a brief moment before coming to a decision.

 

“Fine,” he said grudgingly, before whispering, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “Mogar.”

 

The rest of them frowned as they tried to make out what Michael said. Gavin furrowed his brow and leaned in. “Can’t hear you.”

 

“Fucking hell, it’s ‘Mogar’, _all right_? My real name’s ‘Mogar’. I go by ‘Michael’ because obviously it’s a shitty-ass name.” Michael said, looking frustrated. Everyone else burst into chuckles, and Michael shifted where he stood, embarrassed.

 

Gavin nodded and bit his lip, his eyes dancing with mirth. “All right, _Mogar,”_ he said, watching as Michael’s face screwed up at the sound of his real name. “Let’s have dinner.”

 

“R—really?” Michael’s eyes lit up, before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “I mean, uh, that’d be—that’d be really nice, yeah.”

 

“Oh god, at long fucking last,” Geoff burst out exasperatedly, with Jack watching the scene with an amused expression. Ray was just grinning maniacally, while Barbara was still trying to keep her girly squeals from coming out.

 

Michael started and blushed deeply before looking down at his clothes and shifting awkwardly where he stood. “I should—I should probably go change.” He turned and walked around the counter, going past Ray before a thought seemed to occur to him, and stopped near where Gavin stood.

 

“Oh, and uh, Gavin…” he began. Gavin turned around to look at him, leaning his back on the counter with his eyebrows raised.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Michael kept his expression straight as he continued. “Well, I guess I should just tell you that uh, with my previous boyfriend, I…”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and pulled away from the counter to step into Michael’s space, making him stop his sentence as he became flustered at their sudden proximity. He looked into his eyes and responded.

 

“Don’t even try it,” he said, his voice low and playful, before he leaned in and pressed their lips into a kiss, relishing Michael’s intake of breath at the intimate contact.

 

Barbara gasped and covered her mouth, trying to stop any more noises from coming out as she watched Michael melt into Gavin’s kiss, the latter reaching out a hand to tangle in his hair. Ray whistled from his seat and laughed, while Geoff just rolled his eyes and looked away to continue his conversation with Jack, although the smile didn’t fade from his features.

 

The two finally separated after a moment, with Michael looking like Christmas and his birthday had both come early, while Gavin stepped back, a shy expression taking over his face.

 

“I look forward to dinner,” he said, lowering his voice so only Michael could hear, and slipped away into the back room. Michael was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, the blush still not leaving his cheeks and looking like he’d won the lottery.

 

Barbara let out a squeal, beaming over at Michael, who tried to hide the stupid grin that took over his features. “Oh my fucking god, Michael!”

 

He just scratched at the back of his head and mumbled. “He wanted me to ask him out proper, so I did.”

 

“But really, Mike,” said Ray, a shit-eating grin on his face as he stepped down from his seat and ambled over to where Michael stood. “ _Mogar_? That’s a really fucking ugly name.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, BrownMan.”

 

\--

 

“It’s about time those two got together. Ever since that Michael kid started working in Geoff’s shop, all I’ve ever seen him do was moon over Gavin like a little bitch,” said Burnie, in the middle of working through the tuna pasta Barbara had prepared for the both of them that evening. It was one of their rare dinner dates, all of which they were still trying to keep secret, although it was apparent from the way Joel had looked at them before he left for home that the man knew what they were up to.

 

Barbara wasn’t surprised. It was Joel, after all. She was just concerned that being in a sort-of-relationship with Burnie was going to get him into trouble. Thus, they’d told everyone who asked that they had lunch _once_ and weren’t interested in getting into anything serious at the moment. It helped calm people down, especially Geoff, who was rightfully concerned about his friends’ well-being.

 

She shrugged as she chewed her own meal and swallowed before responding. “I guess Michael finally realized he wasn’t gonna get Gavin by making vague passes. That guy’s as a thick as a fucking brick wall.”

 

Burnie rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Yeah, right,” he said, finishing his meal and topping it off with a bottle of beer. “As if you were any better. I had to spell it out for you, remember?”

 

Barbara grinned back. “That’s because you loved playing hard-to-get,” she said teasingly as she cleaned off her plate. She picked up her beer and took a drink, then put it down and leaned back against in her seat, staring over at the older man on the other side of the table. A serious look took over her features.

 

“You know,” she began, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she spoke. “I never really thought you _liked_ me, you know. As in, you wanted to ask me out and not just be a part of your film crew.”

 

“To be fair, I didn’t plan on it, either,” said Burnie, a smile stretching his lips as he gazed back at Barbara. “Joel called me out on it. That man knows me better than I know myself, most of the time.”

 

Barbara bit her lip as she grinned. “Well, thank god that guy’s a keeper, isn’t he?” She thought for a moment before standing up and walking over to where Burnie sat, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. “If Joel wasn’t around to help us out, I probably wouldn’t be able to do _this._ ” She leaned over and kissed Burnie, who groaned low in his throat and kissed back, letting Barbara move over and straddle his lap without either of them pulling away from the lip-lock.

 

Barbara hummed agreeably and ground her hips against the hardening bulge in Burnie’s pants, smiling through the kiss as she heard him moan at the contact. She pulled away after a moment and looked at his eyes through her lashes, her expression coy.

 

“I told Geoff we’re not having sex,” she admitted, a grin taking over her face as she watched Burnie roll his eyes and groan, frustrated.

 

“Why are you telling me this _now_?” he asked, obviously not wanting to hear about his college buddies in the middle of foreplay.

 

Barbara shrugged again. “Just so you know you’re betraying one of your best friends for the sake of getting some,” she said, sounding nonchalant about it. Burnie huffed at that, not seeming bothered at all by the sentiment.

 

“Geoff can fuck off for all I care,” he said sullenly. “You’re my girlfriend, and I have certain…obligations to keep you interested in an old geezer like me.”

 

Barbara raised her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “Yeah,” she said, reaching out a hand to grab at Burnie’s hair and pull his head back so she could look directly into his eyes. “Yeah, you do.” She leaned down and captured his lips in another kiss, resuming the grinding of her hips against his as their tongues slid out to lash against each other, making the kiss more heated than before.

 

“I, uh—” Burnie breathed out, punctuated by a low groan as Barbara moved on to trail a set of kisses on a sensitive part of his neck. “I think we should probably— _fuck_ —take this to the bedroom.”

 

Barbara pulled away and stared down at Burnie, whose eyes were already glazed over in lust, and ground her hips one more time for good measure. A low growl erupted from Burnie’s throat, and suddenly he was lifting her up and standing her on the floor, a hungry look taking over his face.

 

“Bed. Now,” he said, his voice low and husky, and Barbara decided Burnie was right. Geoff could go fuck himself.

 

As much as she loved her boss, she had more pressing things to take care of.

 

She levelled Burnie with her own, smoldering stare, and made for the bedroom door.

 

“Come on, then,” she said, trying to make her voice as inviting as possible as she slid into the room. “Or I’ll start without you.”

 

\--

 

“Oh god _damn it,_ Burnie!” Geoff exclaimed as he read the text Joel had sent him that night. Griffon looked up from her latest woodcarving project, busy using a blowtorch to add a couple of finishing touches, to give him a concerned look.

 

“What happened?” she asked, and Geoff responded with a sigh.

 

“It’s Burnie,” he said, shaking his head. “He seems to be sleeping with my employee.”

 

“Barbara, you mean?”

 

Geoff chuckled wryly. “Sadly, yes. Why he couldn’t have just gone for any of my other nubile employees who are _not his students,_ I’ll never fucking know.”

 

“Well, all your other employees are men,” said Griffon patiently as she returned to the sculpture she was making. “And, as young and attractive as they are, Burnie’s probably straight as a pole.”

 

“Probably stiff as a fucking mast right at this moment, too,” said Geoff, and groaned at the ensuing mental image. “Oh, god, why did I do that to myself?”

 

Griffon chuckled. “Let it go, Geoff. Barbara’s old enough to take care of herself. Don’t you trust Burnie enough to not mess this one up?”

 

Geoff nodded grudgingly despite himself. “I…I guess,” he said, sounding resigned. “I just don’t want them to get into trouble.”

 

Griffon sighed and dropped the blowtorch on the table beside her, going to press a kiss on Geoff’s forehead. “You’re a good man, you know that?”

 

Geoff broke into a smile, embarrassed. “Just…just concerned, is all.”

 

“And pretty damn modest, too,” said Griffon, leaning down to kiss him full on the lips, and pulling away to stare into his eyes. “Now, stop talking about them and pay attention to me, or I’ll start thinking you want to date both of them more than you want this.”

 

She stepped away for a bit, a playful look taking over her features as she hooked her fingers on the hem of her tank top and pulled it off, making Geoff’s eyes widen.

 

“Well, I—”’

 

“Are you gonna come and get it?” Griffon asked teasingly, and all Geoff could do was nod, and think that, _well._

 

Maybe he didn’t mind Burnie and Barbara’s relationship that much, after all.

 


End file.
